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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114705">Never Underestimate an Outsider</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato'>idanato</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternative Universe - No War, Arranged Marriage, Bridgerton Inspired, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Friendship, Historical References, Multi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Regency Romance, Women Being Awesome, balancing falling in love with fighting for autonomy, minor dimitri/byleth, one sided hubert/edelgard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:35:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Edelgard and Prince Claude-Khalid are a matched pair arranged by the Empress Rhea. When the mysterious Byleth Eisner arrives to the capital, and is showered with Rhea's attentions, rumors stir that she will be named Rhea's heir. Edelgard has other plans, and resolves to figure out the true provenance of the Empress’ alleged niece. Along the way she discovers Claude may have some schemes of his own regarding the throne of Fodlan. </p><p>All the while a troublesome gossip, Lady Whispersmuch, plays both friend and foe reporting on all the sordid details of the upper crust for anyone to read.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan, Hubert von Vestra/Ignatz Victor, My Unit | Byleth &amp; Leonie Pinelli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Formal Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally I was writing this anonymously because the story is about an anonymous writer, but that proved to be too meta. Please feel free to speculate as to Lady Whispersmuch's identity as things unfold.</p><p>A major theme of this work is people (women especially) pushing back against the boxes they are prescribed in this quasi-historical society.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dearest Reader,</p><p>That beloved and reviled time of year has come again at last. Empress Rhea is hosting her annual Great Tree Moon Ball tonight. Already I hear wishful speculation as to potential matches between bright eyed debutantes and so many handsome eligible bachelors. However, gossip about the sons and daughters of mere barons and counts pales in comparison to the rumor that the court will be beset by a true glut of unattached royalty this spring. Two princesses, two princes, and even a king are all expected to grace the ball this evening. Has the Empress finally decided to name herself a formal heir after so many years of uncertainty? This writer can only wager a guess, but it appears that our dear leader is arranging all her pieces into place for what is sure to be an eventful season.</p><p>-Lady Whispersmuch</p><p>§</p><p> </p><p>The suggestion of the marriage match, while not unexpected, was not especially welcomed. Still, Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg kept patient as Empress Rhea inspected the small portrait of the prince of Almyra once more. “He is quite striking, you cannot deny that,” said Rhea as she traced an aged finger around the curve of the young man’s jaw.</p><p>Striking indeed. The artist had given him an teasing expression that made it look like he knew something the viewer did not. Edelgard’s violet eyes lingered upon the little braid that ran down the side of the prince’s face and ended in a golden clip. Such a style was very unusual for Fodlan; Edelgard rather liked it for that reason. At the very least Prince Claude was unlikely to be the same stuffy sort she’d been paraded past last year when she entered the marriage market. She had tried to put an engagement off as long as possible, but now she found she could wait no longer.</p><p>The summer Edelgard turned eighteen, she claimed she was feeling just so very ill that she had to spend the whole season on the coast attended by her closest friend, Hubert von Vestra. She had been dreadfully sick as a young girl and no one wanted to threaten what sure to be a fragile constitution. The summer of her nineteenth birthday was spent in the court of Brigid at the invitation of their king, and what lovely summer that was in the company of Princess Petra. Yet when Edelgard turned twenty the Empress’ patience had grown thin, and Edelgard was debuted to the court to signal the availability of her hand in marriage. That was also the year the damned Lady Whispersmuch began to publish her little anonymous gossip rag exposing all the dirt clinging to the nobility.</p><p>Edelgard’s potential engagements were a favorite topic of Lady Whispersmuch. The princess' suitors ranged from the inoffensive but uninspiring to the truly absurd. The court erupted with murmurs at the audacity of Rhea’s suggestion that a man like Ludwig von Aegir marry the Imperial Princess. It was a slap in the face after his history with her family, but at least Edelgard’s father had been alive to put a stop to it. Yet now Ionius was passed, and Edelgard found herself more than ever a pawn at Rhea’s mercy. The princess could only dodge so many proposals before she found the lower limits of the Empress’ tolerance. In fact, Edelgard’s imperial wedding had been in the works for years. It was happening this Garland Moon, and so Edelgard had to settle upon a groom or else she risked losing all favor and getting stuck with whomever Rhea selected.</p><p>As far as suggested matches went, this one was the best by far. Claude-Khalid was a prince and, fine looks aside, he was not forty years her senior nor an outright political enemy. He had connections, but with him came a whole host of uncertainties. The pair had never met and little was known of Almyra in Fodlan. Edelgard took her eyes off the handsome portrait and focused upon Rhea, “Your majesty, does the prince stand to inherit the Almyran throne?”</p><p>“I have heard he is fourth in line at present, and he is in line for the throne of Fodlan through his mother, Tiana von Riegan,” said Rhea with a mirthless smile. The von Riegans controlled a very influential dukedom in the east of the Holy Fodlan Empire. They were just one of many such powerful houses vying to inherit the highest seat in the land. The succession of Fodlan could be described as confusing in polite terms, and a downright tangled web if one was reading Lady Whispersmuch.</p><p>Edelgard, through the catastrophic misfortune of her family, had landed next in line to the throne by most readings of the Imperial family tree, though she was not without her challengers. The disease that swept through the Hresvelg nursery was unforgiving as it killed off all her siblings and left her weakened and marked. Edelgard’s hair was a shining white, having lost all its color following her fever. Her height, or lack there of, was attributed to the disease as well. It left her with scars from the pox upon her limbs, and so she donned modest styles to hide them away.</p><p>Edelgard’s step-brother, Dimitri Blaiddyd, was just behind her for the throne by most accounts. Then there were the various Dukes — von Riegan, von Aegir, Fraldarius — and their sons and grandsons of varying constitution. Yet none of this mattered in the face of Rhea’s refusal to step down. She was getting on in years and the window in which she might have married and produced a direct heir was closed. Lady Whispersmuch likened her to an ancient wrinkled lizard, and opinioned it was well past the time when it would have been appropriate to announce her chosen heir.</p><p>Sitting across from the older Empress now, Edelgard had to agree the description was spot on. Rhea was elegant and graceful to be sure, but she was old and had a certain crocodilian manner about her. No one knew exactly how old she was because the records of her birth had been destroyed in a massive fire twenty or so years prior, and it would be rude to ask. The only thing that was certain was that this year Rhea was celebrating her Diamond Jubilee to mark sixty years upon the throne. She promised to name herself an heir by the end of summer. Edelgard sincerely hoped that this match with Prince Claude-Khalid signaled that Rhea was choosing the pair of them for the throne. It would be more sure if Rhea had arranged Dimitri and Edelgard, but the prospect of such a match was rendered moot the moment Edelgard’s mother married Dimitri’s father.</p><p>“I understand you have your reservations,” said Rhea in a placating tone. “Dance with the prince tonight, converse with him, and we will meet again to discuss your feelings towards the match.”</p><p>“Of course your majesty. I greatly look forward to making the prince’s acquaintance. I am very optimistic about this match,” said Edelgard with a cool, thin smile. She hoped Prince Claude-Khalid would not prove to be a bore. If Edelgard refused him too, she risked Rhea proposing to someone like Ludwig von Aegir on her behalf.</p><p>§</p><p>The Empress’ Ball was always one of the most important events of the season. Edelgard was in an absolutely glittering pale pink dress adorned with too many crystals along the bust. Rhea had selected the entire ensemble for her down to even her stockings that no one else would see. Looking in the mirror now in the antechamber of the ballroom Edelgard wondered if her signature violet hair ribbons were too juvenile. She wanted to appear a confident young woman ready to assume the throne, and not an innocent girl facing uncertain prospects.</p><p>“Hubert, my ribbons, what do you think of them?”</p><p>Hubert was always her stalwart companion through the years. He was technically on the marriage market as well, though one would never know it by how thoroughly he ignored each cohort of debutantes. He regarded her ribbons with a long look before returning his stare to the people ahead of them in line. “Last year all the young women adopted the trend of wearing their ribbons like you after your debut. Perhaps you should remove them now, if only to measure how fast they rush to imitate you.”</p><p>Edelgard could not agree more as she hastened to remove the ribbons while she and Hubert waited to be announced. She tied the ribbons with delicate bows around her wrists for want of a place to put them. “Thank you Hubert,” she murmured as they advanced their position in the queue. Beside Hubert, Edelgard appeared so very small. He towered over her, but Edelgard had come to take great comfort his size. No one wanted to cross him, and if anyone bothered her the looming Marquis merely had to step near her to shoo them off.</p><p>He looked as uncomfortable as she felt as they waited their turn to enter the ballroom. His long black hair was pulled back in a formal fashion which exposed the drooping side of his face. Every time she looked upon his lips, the right side fixed in their down turned position, she felt a tremendous guilt. Edelgard’s childhood sickness had ended up scarring him too.</p><p>At eight years old, after the worse of her illness had passed, she found herself quarantined from her siblings and all her friends. Hubert, desperate to be with her in the difficult time, had secreted into her room one night while his family was visiting the palace in Enbarr for official business. She recalled being so grateful to see him and had readily fallen asleep in his arms. When they woke in the morning, caught by a maid, all hell broke loose. Hubert’s hands, where they had held hers, had pox all over them. His face, where her lightening hair had rested along his cheek, no longer moved and drooped instead. Hubert was then forced to quarantine too, though his case was not nearly so bad nor contagious.</p><p>The friends did not see each other for nearly four years after that. Now as adults, Hubert had stepped in to protect Edelgard and her interests in the absence of her father and brothers. Edelgard had little doubt that if Rhea tried to marry her off to Ludwig von Aegir again, the duke would surely find some lethal poison in his drink before such an arrangement could go through. While Hubert’s constant presence was comforting, Edelgard was keenly aware that his power had its limits. Even he could not stop the likes of Lady Whispersmuch from commenting upon his personal affairs. She was getting bolder in her reporting, and Edelgard wondered how far the rumormonger could go before she was caught.</p><p>Edelgard and Hubert advanced to the magnificent doorway that connected the antechamber to the main room. “Presenting the Marquis von Vestra and the Imperial Adrestian Princess Edelgard von Hrsevelg,” said the announcer, Alois, in an unmatched booming voice. Edelgard felt a hundred pairs of eyes upon her as she held Hubert’s arm as they descended the staircase into the ballroom. They walked all the way to Rhea’s throne across the entire room just to bow in silence. The Empress spared them a polite smile, but said nothing as she waved them on. The easy part of the night was through.</p><p>“Oh dear, the debutantes now have to present themselves,” said Edelgard as she watched the first of the young women being brought in front of Rhea.</p><p>Bernadetta von Varley was a slight and trembling girl chaperoned by her humorless looking father. Count von Varley’s smile read false as he bowed for the Empress. His daughter dropped into too deep a curtsy and proceeded to faint as she tried to come up from it too fast. Gasps echoed through the crowd from those close enough to observe the absolute debacle.</p><p>Hubert gave Edelgard the benefit of a raised eyebrow but kept his biting commentary to himself. Edelgard was horrified on the young woman’s behalf. She would have to invite Bernadetta to tea later in the week to signal that this misstep was not too large. To be shunned for a simple accident at one’s debut was a terrible fate. Hopefully Lady Whispersmuch did not catch wind of this.</p><p>Next up was a sweet looking young redhead. Annette Dominic did almost trip a time or two as she approach the Empress, but managed to get through the ordeal unscathed. The young woman that followed Annette was too eye catching for Edelgard to look away from.</p><p>Lysithea von Ordelia was small and white haired, just like Edelgard. The princess found her breath catching in her throat as she watched the young debutante present herself with poise and confidence. “Hubert, what do you know about her?”</p><p>“She is the daughter and heir of Count Ordelia,” said Hubert under his breath. “She fell sick with the same disease that you had, but years before it came to Enbarr. I heard that she is the only survivor of her siblings. Her house is in a precarious position of late, which is why she is debuting so early.”</p><p>Edelgard found herself unable to focus on the remaining debutantes as her eyes glued themselves to Lysithea. Edelgard wanted an introduction but perhaps she would wait for a more private opportunity. Tonight was not an appropriate venue to discuss a shared tragedy like the disease that had stolen her family. Edelgard would simply hope the young woman enjoyed sweets and tempt her to a tea time. If her house was truly in a tight spot, Lysithea might even appreciate the attentions of the Imperial princess.</p><p>“Presenting his royal majesty, King Dedue of Duscur,” announced Alois. The noise in the room dropped for a few beats before picking up once more. King Dedue was the first member of the Molinaro dynasty to visit the capital of Fodlan in decades. There was a tense history between his small peninsula and the territory of Faerghus, but with new leadership came new opportunities for alliances.</p><p>“He’s much younger than I expected,” said Edelgard in a hushed tone as she watched the handsome man coming down the stairs. Given Rhea’s advanced age it was easy to assume all kings and queens were old at times. Dedue in contrast could not be much older than Edelgard, and had to be the tallest man in the room. He too had white hair, and it stood out starkly against his darkened skin. It was braided back into neat little rows that framed his elegant crown. Edelgard wondered if it was his natural hair color, or if he had suffered from a similar affliction to herself and Lysithea.</p><p>Edelgard’s nerves were beginning to buzz as the night progressed. Prince Claude-Khalid was sure to arrive soon and then Edelgard would have to face her potential marriage partner. Until then, she was being careful as to which invitations she accepted to dance. There was a fine line between being seen as impolite and being too agreeable.</p><p>“Hubert, will you dance with anyone tonight?” asked Edelgard in an attempt to distract herself.</p><p>Hubert snorted at her suggestion, but then immediately caught himself and returned his face to a resting frown. “No,” said Hubert as his eyes scanned the room. “I do not wish to give anyone the wrong impression.”</p><p>Edelgard envied him at times. When his father died, Hubert became a Marquis and in control of his own future. There was no rush for him to marry and no external pressures forcing his hand. He was certainly not subjected to the whims of an ancient Empress. When Edelgard and Hubert were children they had resolved to marry each other, for there was no better partner than one’s own best friend, but as adults it was clear such a match would kill Edelgard’s chances at becoming Empress. Hubert remained unattached and available to her if she should need him to rescue her from an ill made match, but Edelgard had no intentions of throwing away her position. She would have that throne.</p><p>All of it hinged upon the man walking up to Rhea now. Prince Claude-Khalid of Almyra had arrived. He carried himself with an easy confidence and a far too friendly smile. Rhea even stood up from her throne to welcome him. Edelgard’s stomach flipped as she realized their formal introduction was immanent. Seteth came over to usher the princess back towards the Empress.</p><p>There was no pressure quite like having every noble at court watching the Empress introduce two young people. The small portrait Edelgard had seen had been no exaggeration; the prince was truly that attractive in person.</p><p>“Prince Claude, may I present the imperial princess, Edelgard,” said Rhea as she gestured to the waiting young woman.</p><p>It was the finest curtsy of Edelgard's life. “A pleasure, your highness,” said Edelgard. She locked eyes with him as she rose back up. His eyes were green and lively with curiosity. The shape of them and the way they crinkled with his smile made her heart pound with anticipation for their conversation.</p><p>The prince bowed in return, “I believe I am the one who is honored.” He was charming too, damn him.</p><p>Rhea smiled and clapped once before nodding her head, “Please enjoy the ball.” That was their signal to move towards the dance floor.</p><p>Claude extended his hand, “Shall we, your highness?”</p><p>Edelgard nodded as she accepted his lead. These kinds of songs could stretch on for as long a half an hour. It was like a jail sentence when one was with a disagreeable partner, and like a fleeting dream when one found someone just right.</p><p>“Your highness, do I address you as Prince Claude, or Prince Khalid? Or Prince Claude-Khalid? You see, I have heard all three used,” said Edelgard. No one had given her a straight answer and she could not help but suspect it was to make her look bad by using the wrong one.</p><p>“Claude is what I go by in Fodlan, Khalid is what I answer to in Almyra. Claude-Khalid is what my mother uses when she is scolding me,” said Claude with an easy laugh. It was not an answer. He winked at her, “Claude will be just fine, for now.”</p><p>“And when did you arrive in Fodlan?” asked Edelgard as they made their precise steps to the lingering notes of the violins.</p><p>“Last fall I took up residence at the von Riegan estate. I must say I knew Fodlan’s winters were cold, but I had no idea just how frigid it would get,” said Claude with an exaggerated shiver.</p><p>“If you believe the Leicester territory to be too cold I caution you on visiting Faerghus,” said Edelgard with a tiny laugh.</p><p>“Oh I would like to see it, but perhaps you’re right and I am not up for their snow. Maybe I will go in summer,” said Claude. “Do you think it would make a suitable honeymoon location?”</p><p>Ah yes, this was a marriage talk and not a casual conversation. Edelgard hoped he was making the suggestion in jest, and she went along as if he were, “I cannot say it is the top of my list.”</p><p>“And where would you have us go?” asked Claude as he watched her face with interest. It was intense to be the subject of this close a focus from such an attractive man. Edelgard was embarrassed that her body was daring to betray her with a heat in her cheeks at his attentions.</p><p>Edelgard focused on making a good impression. “Two summers ago I spent several months in Brigid. It was lovely. I have always wished to return.”</p><p>“I met Princess Petra while waiting in the antechamber upstairs. She is very spirited,” said Claude as he glanced around the room as if to locate Petra in the crowd.</p><p>“She is a dear friend,” said Edelgard with fond memories of collecting shells upon the beach and watching the turtles come up onto the shore at night to lay their eggs. Petra was also recently introduced to the marriage market, but since she was uncontested as heir to her grandfather’s throne she had far greater control over who and when she married.</p><p>“Brigid sounds wonderful, though if we are to wed this Garland Moon, I do not think we should stray too far from the capital for our honeymoon,” said Claude. It was dangerous territory to already be planning such an intimate trip when neither had made a motion to propose. They had just met; Edelgard suddenly felt that things were venturing quickly towards too great a familiarity. This was the kind of exchange Lady Whispersmuch would splash across a front page.</p><p>“And what makes you say that?” asked Edelgard as she mentally ran through potential topics of conversation to divert him to instead.</p><p>“Well it’s never good to be too far from the action,” said Claude as his eyes darted towards the Empress. His eyes returned to Edelgard’s. “Prince Dimitri will not leave for the season. With all this talk of Empress Rhea naming her successor by the end of the summer, I daresay we should not leave either. Out of sight, out of mind, and that is not a place we will want to be.”</p><p>If she had any doubts they were now laid to rest. Claude appeared to have intentions for the throne. Edelgard was left to wonder if that was to her benefit or detriment. Regardless, what she could safely say after their dance was that Claude was anything but a bore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A place where no one knows you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>What a start to the season! Empress Rhea’s ball, glittering as bright as the theme of her triumphant Diamond Jubilee, was the only party worth being at last night. It was fantastically decorated, but by and far the greatest jewel in the Empress’ dazzling display was the Imperial Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg. Who could possibly look away when the princess was introduced to Prince Claude of Almyra? Certainly not this writer. I sense a proposal in the near future, and what an attractive couple this pair will make. They danced not once but twice. Then her highness retired for the evening leaving all other wanting partners out of luck. Prince Claude was seen making his rounds afterward and getting introduced to Fodlan’s most important people, but he never returned to the dance floor after the princess departed (a true pity, for his dancing skills are impeccable). This writer will be watching him very closely.</p><p>-Lady Whispersmuch</p><p>§</p><p> </p><p>Hubert woke as the body next to him shifted and stirred. He opened his eyes and found it was Dorothea curled up against him, with no signs of Ignatz in the bed. The painter was likely in the makeshift studio he set up here, taking advantage of the optimal morning light coming in through the windows. Hubert was still getting used to the concept of sharing his space with other people after inviting his lovers to take up a more frequent presence in his home. He really had not expected them to stay for even one night, yet here they were morning after morning more often than not.</p><p>Hubert sat up and tried to fight the tired feeling in his bones. They had all been up late last night courtesy of an impromptu party thrown at his place. Hubert had a much better time cavorting with Garreg Mach’s creative commoners than with the gentry at Rhea’s ball. His home had become a haven for them, and a hidden base of operations for any espionage he was conducting on Edelgard’s behalf. She had many political enemies, and their common denominator was they all had servants that enjoyed the sort of gatherings Hubert hosted.</p><p>Hubert found his kitchen as still as a graveyard as he set to making his morning coffee. He didn’t employ too many servants at this address out of a desire for discretion. He had a proper live-in staff at Vestra House in Enbarr. That was where he did his formal entertaining of his peers when necessary. Here at Garreg Mach his home was decidedly less impressive and in an unfashionable end of town. He far preferred it to the former.</p><p>His cook was just arriving with fresh bread from the bakery. “Good morning Ashe,” said Hubert as he spied the daily paper shoved through the mail slot. Stuffed in the middle and just peeking out was a small insert from the stealthy Lady Whispersmuch. <em>Delightful</em>. While her publications over the last year appeared to be sporadic, it was all but guaranteed she would release a reaction in response to something as big as a ball.</p><p>“Morning Hubert,” said Ashe as he began to sort his groceries. There was no overwrought formality in this house by design. “I’m making an onion and egg pie for breakfast, how does that sound?”</p><p>“Delicious,” said Hubert as he retrieved the newspaper and pulled out Whispersmuch’s report. He tucked it under one arm and picked up two cups of coffee.</p><p>Ignatz, as predicted, was in his favorite spot working on a painting for a client. Hubert set one cup of coffee beside the artist’s palette and, after a few moments of internal debate, laid a gentle kiss on the top of Ignatz’s pale green crown. Showing affection was not Hubert’s natural inclination, but something about this arrangement made him want to test the waters and see what it was like. Ignatz looked up at him with a fleeting smile, “Good morning Hubert.”</p><p>“It is a good morning,” said Hubert as he settled into a comfortable chair behind Ignatz to watch him working. Hubert was not one for art yet he could respect the effort that went into making it. The only reason he had bought so many paintings to decorate his Enbarr house was because he wasn’t sure how to actually flirt with the artist responsible for them. Luckily Ignatz was perceptive enough to recognize that Hubert was attempting to appreciate more than the brush strokes.</p><p>Ignatz set down his tools and swiveled on his stool to face Hubert. “You know, I would still like to paint you. The lighting is quite good right now if you’d just let me make a sketch.”</p><p>Though the request stirred up some forbidden feeling deep inside him, Hubert shook his head and focused on Whispersmuch’s paper, “I am not a good subject for a painting.” Ignatz had been trying to capture Hubert’s likeness for months, but Hubert did not want it done. He did not care for how he looked, and the last thing he wanted was his face immortalized on a canvas.</p><p>Thankfully Dorothea’s entrance cut that conversation off. She settled into Hubert’s lap and drank from his coffee cup before taking the gossip paper from his hands, “Ah dear Lady Whispersnatch—”</p><p>“Whispersmuch,” corrected Hubert in a soft voice. Dorothea enjoyed reading the scandal sheets out loud as if they were drama she was acting in. Hearing her reactions made the gossip column that much more pleasurable.</p><p>Dorothea, like Ignatz, was a delight to watch at work. Hubert found it hard to get engaged with stage productions, but Dorothea’s acting was so good that even Hubert managed to put aside his thoughts to lose himself in her performances. Her movements were captivating, and her voice transformed her into whomever she needed to be that night.</p><p>Dorothea was such a practiced actor that one might never suspect where she had come from before her career took off. She’d not had an easy life growing up on the streets, and Hubert wanted to give her one that was nicer if she’d allow him. Yet she did not like the nobility, and it was difficult at times not to wonder if such disdain secretly extended to him. It certainly seemed like she was making an exception, but maybe she was just that skilled in selling lies as truths.</p><p>“Oh dear, a girl fainted in front of the Empress? How awful. Here we are, ‘Bernadetta von Varley took her curtsy too far and ended up sprawled out on the floor. Perhaps her notoriously unpleasant father ordered her corset strings tied too tight’. What a way to enter the court,” said Dorothea with a grim laugh.</p><p>“I think I’ll be painting the Varleys soon, they’ve booked a consultation,” said Ignatz as he worked on making the shining head of Duke Ludwig von Aegir more attractive in his portrait. Beside the Duke, his son was already fleshed out in the oil paints and looking proud. A big smiling Ferdinand von Aegir was not a sight Hubert wanted in his home, but he’d encouraged Ignatz to take the job. It was amazing the sorts of things the painter heard while working all but invisibly in noble houses.</p><p>“The Varleys seem like an unhappy family,” said Hubert as he linked his hands around Dorothea’s hips. His hands were pitted with the scars from the pox and their appearance had long embarrassed him. They were concealed with gloves easily enough though. Really only his face was a visible reminder of what had occurred. No one proper ever witnessed his other scars where Hubert’s father had whipped him raw for his disobedience. His back was riddled with the faded evidence of the punishment. If ever there was a person he did not miss, it was his dead father.</p><p>“Oh here we are, the bachelor report,” sang Dorothea with glee as she paged to the end. “Whispersmuch is so lustful when she describes them. You can practically hear her drool dripping onto the page. It’s hilarious, she reminds me of Manuela at times.”</p><p>“Read it out loud then,” said Hubert as he shut his eyes and leaned back in the chair.</p><p>“She ranked Prince Dimitri as the most eligible bachelor, second year in a row. Really, I would think he’s the most unobtainable.” Dorothea cleared her throat and did an imitation of what sounded like an overbearing aristocratic matron, “My my, dear readers, Dimitri is the perfect picture of a prince and is possibly hunting a bride this year.” Dorothea shook her head and snorted. “So predictable. Ferdinand von Aegir probably cannot stand that he is only ranked fifth.”</p><p>“I was surprised Prince Claude did not top the list. He is very,” Hubert’s voice trailed off. What could he say of Claude? The prince was handsome, he was confident, and he had looked so very perfect dancing with Edelgard. He was everything that Hubert was not. “He did not disappoint.”</p><p>“It looks like Lady Whispersmuch took off points because she thinks he will propose to the princess very soon,” said Dorothea as her eyes traced down the page. Dorothea paused with a frown on her face at whatever she was reading. Her voice grew strained, “Oh Hubert, she’s ranked you as least eligible.”</p><p>Hubert stifled his chuckle. “Good,” he whispered. He did not wish to be seen as particularly marriageable.</p><p>“No it’s not good at all, she’s cruel. Here she’s called you a cold man incapable of smiling,” said Dorothea with a building outrage.</p><p>Hubert merely laughed aloud at the charge. He was cold. That was why he slept in the middle of not one but two lovers to steal their warmth for himself. He could not smile properly because the disease had robbed him of the ability. No one but Whispersmuch dared to mock him openly, but he knew everyone was thinking such things when he was announced into a room.</p><p>He felt Dorothea’s gentle hand caressing that part of his face now as she cupped his cheek to plant a kiss upon it. Hubert opened his eyes to look at her in mild shock over the gesture. He was not accustomed to someone attempting to comfort him. He stared at his opera singer, and then at his painter. On paper he was their patron. In practice they were his most trusted spies and informants. Sometimes he dared to think they might be more before he reminded himself he was paying them to keep his company. “Please, do not fret about my feelings. I have all I need before me,” said Hubert.</p><p>It was a half truth; this was not everything he wanted, but Hubert was trying to be content in this life he’d made for himself. Yet if the details of this unusual arrangement got out it would possibly be his ruin, and perhaps Edelgard’s as well. That was why he could not allow Ignatz to paint him, nor would he attend too many operas and be seen lingering at Dorothea’s dressing room. He was good at keeping his life private and making sure he only made minimal appearances in the musings of Lady Whispersmuch.</p><p>§</p><p>Byleth Eisner had never been outside the village of Sauin that surrounded the estate she grew up on. There she had been raised by her father, Jeralt, who was a former knight and minor lord. He had taught her all about plants and animals, how to hunt, and even how to duel with a rapier. He had failed to tell her anything of Garreg Mach or her departed mother. She wished he had as the towering white stone city of Garreg Mach rose on the horizon to greet her.</p><p>Apparently Byleth’s mother Sitri was something of a princess, but one whose life had been shrouded in secrecy. The Empress Rhea had never married, and so of course a baby would bring questions; such as, where do babies come from? Byleth was slightly embarrassed that Jeralt had not described that process to her either, but surely someone would explain it eventually. Sitri was born in secret after a pregnancy hidden by a trip abroad. She was apparently very sick all the time and was raised out in the country in the vain hopes the fresh air would help with her health. It did not. It did however cause her to cross paths with Sir Jeralt Reus Eisner.</p><p>They were a love match and Byleth was quite pleased with that part of her parents’ story. Everything else about it was dreadful though. The Empress did not approve and tried to annul the marriage, but by then Sitri was already with child. Byleth came, and Sitri went. Jeralt tried his best to parent on his own, though Byleth could not deny the impact of various people from Sauin on her upbringing. There was Shamir, the strict Dagdan governess who taught Byleth how to read and write. There was Catherine who made sure Byleth was always protected and trained to defend herself. Then there were the Pinellis who made sure Byleth was well fed and clothed. Most of all, there was Leonie.</p><p>She was Leoniella as her mother named her, Leo as her brothers called her, and Leonie as she fancied herself. Leonie was Byleth’s constant companion and dearest friend. They were inseparable, and thus when the Empress summoned Byleth to the capital of course she brought Leonie along. For as many reservations as Byleth held about this new place, Leonie seemed to have only excited hopes. If Leonie could harbor such optimism, Byleth believed she might too in time. She just had to give Garreg Mach a chance.</p><p>“No one knows us here, that is terrific,” said Leonie as she pressed her face against the carriage window.</p><p>“But, I like knowing everyone in Sauin,” said Byleth. Everyone knew everyone and their business in Sauin. Most of all Byleth liked knowing who she herself was while there. Here she wasn’t exactly sure who she was supposed to be. Was she a princess too? Would the truth of her parentage come out or was it intended to stay hidden forever? No one was explaining a damn thing to her, and Byleth didn’t even know how to begin to figure it all out.</p><p>Byleth was also acutely aware of how ignorant she was of the ways of the court. Shamir, for all her wisdom, knew little of Fodlan’s social rules. Jeralt eschewed them, and Catherine had actively ran away from them to the point that she had changed her name! Byleth knew she had some bad habits and was far from a model young noblewoman. She enjoyed an occasional hard drink with her father, she was known to emit a curse when stubbing her toes, and fashion was really not her strong suit. The closer the carriage got to the palace, the less well Byleth was feeling about all this.</p><p>“What if I do not make much of a proper lady?” asked Byleth as their carriage rolled past increasingly nice houses. There were bonnet wearing women adorned in layered dresses that made them look like tiered cakes walking down the streets. Men in top hats with canes strolled along the side walks while chatting. Byleth had never seen so many people in a single place before.</p><p>“What does being a proper lady mean anyway?” asked Leonie with too easy a smile. It was no secret that ‘Lady’ ranked low on Leonie’s list of favorite words.</p><p>Her smile faded as the pair got out of their carriage. The entryway of the palace seemed as large as Leonie’s house. A stooped woman with white hair adorned with shining green gemstones and fine robes moved at an impossibly slow pace towards them. This had to be Byleth’s grandmother, the Empress Rhea. Byleth hurried to produce a curtsy while nudging Leonie to do the same.</p><p>“Ah, finally, at long last my favorite niece has arrived,” announced Empress Rhea as she reached the young travelers. <em>Niece</em>. That answered one of Byleth’s many questions. The Empress inspected her with chilly hands. “Ah, my dear, you must be exhausted from the road. Certainly you will want to relax and change into some more suitable clothing.”</p><p>Byleth looked down at her most favorite dress in the world while wondering what exactly made it unsuitable. Rhea smiled and nodded her head in Byleth’s direction, “Seteth will give you the full tour, and see you and your lady’s maid set up in your rooms. If there is anything you need at all, Seteth will be happy to help.”</p><p>Based on the stern line of Seteth’s lips Byleth did not get the impression he was overjoyed about the assignment. He looked to be about her father’s age, but had none of Jeralt’s humor. “Ladies, please follow me.”</p><p>Leonie frowned and whispered to Byleth as they trailed behind Seteth through the ornate palace, “I’m not a lady’s maid, I’m your travel companion. Are they going to expect me to do your hair?”</p><p>Byleth’s hair was wild as the wind and teal as the ocean. It refused to be tamed, and was her favorite thing about her appearance. Seteth cleared his throat, “If you require a lady’s maid, my sister Flayn can assist you until we find a suitable servant.” He looked at Leonie, appearing even less impressed than before, “I apologize on behalf of the Empress for assuming you were such.”</p><p>Byleth thought this was a good moment to endear herself to Seteth, “It was an honest mistake—”</p><p>Seteth looked at her like she’d just asked to take a nude dip in a fountain. “Never suggest that the Empress makes mistakes.” He took a step closer and inspected her with a suspicious stare. Seteth’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I was not aware the Empress had any close family until you mysteriously showed up. If you are hiding anything, rest assured I shall find out.”</p><p>There were many things that Byleth did not know about Garreg Mach, but a threat was a threat and needed no further explanation.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A different sort of flower</h2></a>
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    <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>This writer has learned that none other than Count von Varley has placed a price on my head. For what crime might I ask? I merely reported what the whole room saw when his daughter fainted at her debut. Now twenty gold pieces are promised to whoever can confirm my identity. I presume the fiend von Varley shall then come to call upon me and give me a stern talking to (and perhaps a little spanking) for my misbehavior. Oh my, I am simply trembling in my petticoats! I jest dear reader, should he treat me like he is rumored to treat his wife, well then it may be the last you hear from me.</p><p>I cannot tell if I ought to be insulted that the Count has marked my value so low, or if this merely confirms he is as stingy as they say. I suppose this writer will find out when he holds what he’s promising will be a most fabulous ball. We shall see, dear reader, we shall see. I for one am keeping my expectations as laughably minuscule as the bounty on my true name.</p><p>-Lady Whispersmuch</p><p>§</p><p>Rhea was dressing Edelgard up in a pale green ensemble for the Varley’s upcoming ball as if Edelgard was some sort of living doll. Pale green was not Edelgard’s color. She wouldn’t mind a fierce red, a noble purple, or a refined gold and blue. Even a dark green would be better. Pale green washed her out and made her look ill.</p><p>The talented tailor and current favorite of Rhea’s, Mercedes von Martritz, was trying to be helpful. “I really think that violet or scarlet might look that much more flattering,” said Mercedes as she held up fabric by Edelgard’s face for Rhea’s appraisal. Mercedes was a noble of sorts, but one who had fallen so far down the ladder of the gentry that she had to work for a living. She had also spent a total of four seasons on the marriage market with no seriously interested parties, and was now considered a solid spinster at almost twenty-six. However, Edelgard did not pity Mercedes; she envied the woman’s freedom.</p><p>“The Varleys will all be in purple, I do not want the princess mistaken for that spastic girl of theirs,” said Rhea.</p><p>Edelgard did not think it likely that someone would mistake the famously white haired princess with the purpled haired Bernadetta, but she held her tongue. Since her father’s death she had legally found herself as Rhea’s ward. It was critical she stay in the Empress’ good graces. That meant playing nice and wearing what was sure to be a monstrosity of a gown.</p><p>Rhea turned her nose up at the red fabric too, “I do not think scarlet sends the right sort of message, do you Lady von Martritz?”</p><p>Mercedes blushed and shook her head. “Pale green it is,” said Mercedes as she set the rejected fabrics down.</p><p>“What is wrong with red?” asked Edelgard as she watched the delicious satin getting folded up. “I think it is a lovely color.”</p><p>“It’s the color of scandal my dear,” said Rhea in a knowing tone. “Once you’re married you can wear as much red as your heart desires, but until then it is best not to stir up any rumors.”</p><p>“Yes, you don’t want to appear in Lady Whispersmuch’s papers as anything but a perfect princess,” said Mercedes with a big, warm smile. Her words were well meaning, but they left a bad taste in Edelgard’s mouth.</p><p>“Lady Whispersmuch is nothing more than a gnat buzzing to whomever will listen,” said Rhea with a hint of annoyance. She paused and regarded Edelgard with a thin smile as she appraised the princess standing in nothing but her slip. “Lady von Martritz, do you have any feathers that might be incorporated into this dress?”</p><p>“Feathers?” asked Mercedes and Edelgard in unison. Mercedes bit her lip and nodded, “I can certainly procure some.”</p><p>For as nice as Mercedes was, Edelgard sincerely wished the woman was just a little bit less accommodating at times. Rhea clapped with pleasure, “Wonderful! I want as many as you can get on there, don’t hold back. Well Edelgard, your fitting seems complete, you may dress now. Lady von Martritz, please keep those fabrics out, I have another young woman who needs outfitting for the ball.”</p><p>Edelgard’s ears perked up as Mercedes helped her back into her dress. The princess wondered whom the Empress was referring to. Edelgard did not have to wait long before a slightly lost looking pair of young women appeared at the door. Rhea gestured for the two to enter.</p><p>One was fairly common looking with blazing red hair that she appeared to have cut herself in a short and unconventional style. The other was a bit more striking, with wide blue eyes and teal hair that looked as if it had been brushed perhaps once or twice in her life. Both were dressed in what might generously be described as a pastoral style.</p><p>Rhea’s smile widened at their arrival with a joy she never held when looking upon Edelgard. “Ah welcome, welcome! It is high time we get you fitted in some proper garments.”</p><p>Rhea at least gave Edelgard the courtesy of allowing her to get into her shoes before launching into the introductions. “Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg, please meet Princess Byleth Sitrinia Seiros von Nabatea,” said Rhea, the long and impressive name rolling from her tongue.</p><p>Edelgard felt only panic and shock in her chest as she dipped into a reflexive curtsy. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Byleth.” It was a true revelation to learn that there was another member of the von Nabatea lineage, and that she was a perfect age to assume the throne. Where on earth had she been hiding away all this time, and why had no one bothered to mention her earlier?</p><p>“Just Byleth is fine, and nice to meet you too,” said the teal haired woman without so much as a bow of her head.</p><p>She was also completely without any manners. It had to be a power play; this princess was telling the other she was above her. For usually being so confident, Edelgard now felt fully out of her element. Rhea did not help matters, “You are excused Edelgard, this is a private fitting with family.” That all but confirmed it. Edelgard had no idea where this lost heir of Nabatea had come from, but she was going to make it her business to find out as much as she could.</p><p>Respite from the awful fitting was found at the training grounds. This was Edelgard’s favorite place within Garreg Mach’s ornate and excessively gilded palace. Here she could get out her frustrations in a socially acceptable manner. A training dummy did not mind her abuses as she mentally aired out all her anger built up through the day.</p><p>Edelgard was helped into her lightweight athletic garments by her personal trainer and bodyguard. Ladislava had been trained in the military, and it showed in her manner and the severe style in which she held herself. Her posture was to die for, and she never had so much as a hair out of place. She ran Edelgard through drills like a proper sergeant.</p><p>“Again Princess, you are off today,” said Ladislava as she watched Edelgard’s rapier movements.</p><p>“Perhaps she needs a live partner instead of a straw dummy?” asked a familiar deep voice.</p><p>“Prince Dimitri,” said Edelgard with a smile as she turned to face him. She had not seen him in a whole year, and it appeared he had not been slacking in his training over the winter. She could recall when they were the same height, but now he towered over her.</p><p>“There’s no need to be so formal with me,” said Dimitri, even as he gave her a polite bow in return. “Shall we spar, sister?”</p><p>It was more of a dance than anything as they circled each other. “How are you enjoying Garreg Mach?” asked Edelgard as she split her attention between the weapon in his hands and the careful movements of his feet.</p><p>“It is a little warm for my tastes,” said Dimitri as he got his bearings with the weight of his blade. It seemed comically thin in comparison to his large frame, yet the rapier was the only polite weapon for a duel. Duels were falling out of fashion, but woe to the family that did not prepare their son for a potential challenge. Edelgard learned to fence because it was one of the few physical activities deemed appropriate for her to engage in. She could ride a horse, she could walk the gardens, and she could fence. She dared not run, even as with every step through this oppressive palace she felt like sprinting towards the door.</p><p>“Have you met with the Empress at all?” asked Edelgard as she continued to circle him looking for any weaknesses.</p><p>He’d come a long way from when they used to spar as children. Back then it felt like she was teaching him everything, but now his movements had matured into his own style. She could no longer predict his each and every step. She wondered if she could still predict his mind.</p><p>“I have, she held a tea time with the King of Duscur and I,” said Dimitri.</p><p>“Oh? And how did that go?” asked Edelgard before she lunged in.</p><p>Dimitri swerved out of her range just in time. “It was pleasant.” He was being vague, and Edelgard wasn’t sure if it was because of the nature of the discussion at the tea, or because the Dimitri she knew found politics a terrible, boring topic. She imagined he would do his duty and negotiate a proper trading contract, but she doubted he’d take any joy from it.</p><p>“I noticed you danced with Hilda Goneril at the ball,” said Edelgard before attempting another strike. This time she hit true.</p><p>Dimitri blushed at the charge. “She was being so persistent. It felt rude to keep refusing her.”</p><p>“It was rude that she kept asking,” said Edelgard as they reset themselves into their stances. “So, are you in fact hunting a bride as Lady Whispersmuch suggests?”</p><p>“Who?” asked Dimitri as he set to strike at her.</p><p>Edelgard took the hit clean on the shoulder. She set the tip of her rapier down to the floor to signal for a break, “You mean to tell me that you do not know who Lady Whispersmuch is?”</p><p>A small smile flitted across his face, “Is that not the point, sister? No one knows who she is.”</p><p>He’d hoodwinked her! Perhaps he did have a touch more savvy than she gave him credit for. Edelgard smiled and bowed, “You got me.” Her eyes came back up as she narrowed her gaze in on him, “But you would tell me if you were, wouldn’t you? I don’t want to learn from the gossip papers that my brother is engaged.”</p><p>“Assuming that Whispersmuch does not find out before I do, I will be sure to tell you first,” laughed Dimitri as they resumed their sparring.</p><p>It was a lovely session and by the end, Edelgard had nearly forgotten her stress over Byleth’s surprise appearance in her life. Nearly, but not quite. The illusion of things being right was shattered by the other princess coming to inspect the training grounds.</p><p>Why could Byleth not be enamored with embroidery or buried in a book? Why did she have to invade Edelgard’s preferred space? As Byleth walked around, she went to grab a rapier and proceeded to knock down the entire weapons rack. The swords clattered to the floor with a cringe worthy echo.</p><p>Dimitri, nearby gentleman that he was, offered to help with the cleanup. Edelgard watched the interaction unfolding from across the room in disbelief. Not only was Byleth a princess from an important lineage, but she had just perfectly executed an “accident” in front of the court’s most eligible and high ranking bachelor. Dimitri’s naive smile at the young woman was like a nail through Edelgard’s heart. That conniving woman was clearly after Rhea’s throne.</p><p>§</p><p>“And then she acted like it was an accident,” said Edelgard with as much heat in her voice as in the tea. “As if anyone could believe that. Well, Dimitri believed it, but, you know how he is.”</p><p>Hubert took all of this information in silence. His fingers drummed upon the table as his eyes roved around the tea house. “Perhaps this is not the kind of conversation we should be having in public,” said Hubert. There was no one seated very near to them, but sharp ears could be lurking anywhere.</p><p>“Well I don’t know where else we’re supposed to talk, I fear we are limited in our opportunities to meet without it looking as if you are courting me,” said Edelgard as she checked her watch. Bernadetta von Varley was late, and not fashionably so.</p><p>“I will investigate the newcomer, and find out where she’s really from. The Empress should not have a niece, unless someone is hiding something,” said Hubert. His stare lingered in the direction of the door, “It appears your actual date is here, excuse me.”</p><p>Bernadetta von Varley looked like she might burst into tears as she approached the table in a rush. “I am so, so very sorry.”</p><p>Hubert rose and flashed the young woman lopsided smile that only seemed to strike more fear into her. He took the hint and got out of there as fast as possible. Bernadetta composed herself and gave Edelgard a tame curtsy that did not end with her sprawled out on the floor. “I am so grateful for the invitation your majesty.” She did not sound grateful so much as terrified.</p><p>“It is highness, actually, not majesty, but please, Princess Edelgard is fine for now,” said Edelgard as she poured tea into Bernadetta’s waiting cup. Bernadetta scrambled to take her seat.</p><p>“Right of course, I knew that, truly,” said Bernadetta in rapid bursts. Her hands were shaking as she lifted the cup.</p><p>“Bernadetta, breathe,” ordered Edelgard.</p><p>Bernadetta squeezed her eyes shut as she obeyed the command and took in several deep breaths. Finally, her eyes opened and she began to breathe with less gusto. Bernadetta composed herself and smiled, “I am so very pleased you accepted the invitation to the ball my family is hosting.” She sounded like she was reading a script penned by her father.</p><p>“Of course, the Varleys are a very important family in Adrestia, it is my pleasure as the princess of the territory to attend,” said Edelgard. The Varleys had also been part of the soft coup that knocked Edelgard’s father out of the line of succession for the throne. Something about having multiple secret consorts wasn’t a good look for the next in line for Emperor. The scandal had nearly wrecked the family. If not for the sympathy that followed almost all of the Hresvelg children falling ill, Edelgard might have been out of the line of succession herself.</p><p>Bernadetta did not attempt to make further conversation. Edelgard was forced to carry things from there. “How are you enjoying Garreg Mach?”</p><p>“Oh, I have not had much opportunity to leave the house,” said Bernadetta with a small tremble in her voice. “I do not get many invitations out to tea that my father is willing to accept.”</p><p>The poor girl didn’t appear to have a single say in her social schedule; Edelgard could relate. “Have you had any potential suitors around your house after the ball?”</p><p>From the pallor that Bernadetta took on, Edelgard realized too late that this was not a good topic. “I have seen Duke von Aegir,” said Bernadetta in a voice as stiff as a corpse. Her tone softened as a blush crossed her cheeks, “As well as his son, Ferdinand von Aegir.”</p><p>“Oh, Ferdinand is a very worthy suitor,” said Edelgard with relief that it was not just von Aegir senior that had come sniffing around.</p><p>“Yes, perhaps too worthy for someone like me,” said Bernadetta in a faint whisper as she looked down at her teacup. “After the most recent Lady Whispersmuch paper came out, my father warned me that I will be all but unmarriageable if the next ball goes poorly.”</p><p>Edelgard reached out and placed one of her gloved hands over Bernadetta’s. “That is not true in the slightest. I suspect you simply need to get used to interacting with society. It is normal to be overwhelmed at first, but you will get better with practice.” Edelgard withdrew her hand and took in Bernadetta’s appearance. The girl did not seem to suffer from a guardian set on dressing her up like a big green chicken, but it was hard to ignore the discomfort in Bernadetta’s wilting posture and terrified expressions. The cut of her dress was out of style, as if her mother was dressing Bernadetta up in the peak of fashions from twenty years past. Her hair appeared to be fighting tight and unnatural looking ringlets, as if it wished to unfurl and straighten out.</p><p>“Bernadetta, would you like to tell me about your hobbies?” asked Edelgard as she prepared for whatever the poor girl was expected to parrot off. Tea times like this usually devolved in discussions of couples in the courtyard, children in the marketplace, and cliched romantic gestures offered by boring suitors.</p><p>“I love rearing carnivorous plants,” said Bernadetta with total ease. When Edelgard stared in shock for a second too long at such a response, Bernadetta’s face contorted in embarrassment. Her hands formed little, nervous fists as if she was holding them back from smacking herself in reprimand. “I mean, embroidery! I love embroidery. The plant thing was a jest, a joke, I swear.”</p><p>“No, no Bernadetta, I did not know there was such a thing as carnivorous plants,” said Edelgard, honestly. “What do they eat?”</p><p>Bernadetta’s nostrils flared as if she was debating whether to divulge any more information. She looked briefly around the tea house and located her father, sitting with Hubert a few tables away. Whatever conversation the men were having was unlikely to be about carnivorous plants and appeared to have Varley extra animated.</p><p>“Well, they have different diets depending upon the species,” said Bernadetta in an almost whisper. “I am fond of pitcher plants, they look like this cream cup,” said Bernadetta as she lifted the stout vessel. It had a little lid that attached to its handle which Bernadetta lifted up and put back down. “They have a cap like structure that closes when they catch something in their digestive chamber. The small ones consume flies, but I’ve heard that in far away places there are big ones that can even catch small lizards and mice.”</p><p>“Fascinating,” said Edelgard. Fascinating, and perhaps a touch disgusting, but fascinating none the less. “Truly. When I think of plants I think of flowers, pretty things that just sit around to be looked at and given attention by bees to bear fruit.” Edelgard often felt like a topiary being contorted into whatever shape Rhea desired. “I think of women when I think of plants, or perhaps a woman’s place in our world. They are unable to escape where they’ve grown, unless a man comes by to forcibly uproot them. They are expected to look perfect for the spring season, and lay down as a bee comes by to make the children. That feels like the only purpose we are permitted to serve.” Edelgard glanced up to see that Bernadetta was watching her with rapt attention. “But, now I know there are carnivorous plants than can bite back,” said Edelgard with a small smile. Perhaps she could be more than a well pruned rose bush; perhaps she could draw some blood.</p><p>Bernadetta smiled in a genuine fashion for the first time since Edelgard had been introduced to her. “Would you like to hear more? I recently acquired a Brigid fly snapper,” said Bernadetta. She appeared bursting to tell another soul about it.</p><p>“Please, do go on,” said Edelgard with pleasure before she sipped some more tea and let Bernadetta ramble about her passion.</p><p>In the distance Edelgard could hear Count von Varley speaking in a raised voice. Little bits of spittle were flying from his lips as he wagged a finger at Hubert. “She must have an illegal printing press! If we find that, we find Whispersmuch,” said Varley, having apparently discovered his own passionate topic to discuss.</p><p>Hubert just looked exhausted by the conversation. “I suppose that is possible, but would such a venture not be very large and expensive, thus difficult to hide?”</p><p>Edelgard tried to ignore them as she focused on Bernadetta instead. Whispersmuch seemed far too smart to get caught by someone like Count von Varley. The mysterious writer had gotten away with distributing her scandal sheet all last year, and showed no signs of letting up. Edelgard speculated idly, as Bernadetta described the hair like triggers that caused the Brigid fly snapper to close, that Lady Whispersmuch was a carnivorous plant kind of woman just waiting for gossip to cross her insatiable palate for drama. If anyone could find out who the mysterious Princess Byleth was, and expose what she was up to, it was Whispersmuch. Edelgard could only hope that discussing such matters with Hubert in a crowded tea house was enough to pique the anonymous writer’s interest in the topic.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Keen Observations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>It has been brought to my attention that the Empress has recently welcomed her niece to stay at the palace for the season. One can only assume that the Empress intends to introduce this young woman, a hitherto unknown descendant of the storied von Nabatea family, to society soon. It is quite curious that the Empress would wait until this symbolic year, in which she has promised to name her heir, to reveal the existence of such a close family member. Yet one must ask the question: why has the Empress not thought to mention her niece before? One must also scratch their heads in wonder at the provenance of such a young lady, since it is known that the Empress has not had a living legitimate sibling in approximately half a century. In the words of my dearest papa, we only hide in the shadows that which we are afraid of coming into the light.</p><p>All that speculation aside, I for one cannot wait to find out more about this mysterious addition to the already complicated line of succession. It is getting to the point where one might need a degree awarded by the Garreg Mach University just to sort Hresvelgs from Blaiddyds and all the little twists and links between them. That being said, I have heard that we shall not have to wait long to meet our new princess for she is having a dress made up for the upcoming Varley ball. If you were not intending to go (very understandable dear reader) it might be worth reconsidering just to see this debut. Trusted sources tell me that this Princess Byleth appears more milk maid than majesty, but all gems start their lives uncut. We should not judge her before she has a chance to make a polished first impression. Then, dear reader, it will be open season.</p><p>-Lady Whispersmuch</p><p>§</p><p>The scandal sheet had been set out on the breakfast tray brought to Byleth and Leonie’s guest rooms. Byleth didn’t want to make a fuss but she was unnerved to already appear within the gossip column despite having only been here at the palace for less than a week. She also could not trace who had decided she ought to see this. The maid that delivered the food apologized profusely, but the tray had been assembled in the massive kitchens where dozens of busy people worked. Multiple staff members were responsible for getting breakfast out to the various private apartments in the palace and the tray had traded through many hands.</p><p>Byleth was not the only unfortunate person featured in the paper, but she didn’t know anything about the other people slandered in the column. She had to assume they were as unfairly represented as she. Perhaps Count von Varley was not as repulsive as described nor Hilda Goneril an ‘excessively bedazzled trollop’, whatever that meant. Surely calling Caspar von Bergliez a truculent peon and Linhardt Hevring a snoring pseudo-intellectual were as out of line as Byleth felt her milk maid comparison was.</p><p>“When I meet this Lady Whispersmuch, I am going to punch them in the mouth,” said Leonie as she took her turn reading over the sheet.</p><p>“I do not think that would be an appropriate response,” said Byleth even though she would not mind getting a swing in at the writer. Byleth was quietly grateful that Leonie had been spared Lady Whispersmuch’s cruel analysis. It was becoming very clear the pair of them were not especially urbane and Byleth could not miss the looks she was getting here in the palace. Servants usually stopped whatever they were whispering whenever Byleth drew near, and should could not help but feel paranoid that they were discussing her.</p><p>“This isn’t even fit to wipe an ass with,” declared Leonie as she crumpled up the paper and sent it flying in the direction of the waste bin.</p><p>Byleth did not want to tell Leonie how to conduct herself but the stakes were feeling higher than ever now that it was clear they were being closely observed. “You should probably watch your language,” said Byleth. The atmosphere here was a far cry from home and blunt language of Jeralt or Catherine. There was not a single fuck to be had here.</p><p>Leonie cleared her throat and did an exaggerated impression of what could only be Seteth. “Very well, your highness, what I meant was that periodical is already so filled to the brim with feces that I would not let it grace the crease betweenth my cheeks.”</p><p>Byleth burst out laughing. For as bad as appearing in the gossip column felt, at least Leonie was here to make her feel better. Leonie’s voice returned to normal as she continued enjoying her breakfast, “Maybe you can ask that Edel, um, Edelgart? She’s lived here for a few years right? She can probably help you fit in.”</p><p>“I believe it’s Edelgard,” said Byleth. A nagging voice inside her, that also sounded suspiciously like Seteth, suggested she should get used to adding titles to people’s names. “Princess Edelgard, of Adrestia,” said Byleth in confirmation. “Yes, I will call on her, I guess do I send a note?”</p><p>Leonie shrugged, “That seems overly formal, so it’s probably the right thing to do.”</p><p>Byleth felt a little better having a plan. She would call upon the Imperial princess and ask what the hell she was supposed to be doing in this strange and unfriendly place.</p><p>§</p><p> </p><p>The benefit of Rhea being utterly distracted by Byleth was that Edelgard could select her own dress to wear for the day. Her lady’s maid, Fleche, helped her to put on a pale blue frock and did her hair up. For the first time in a very long time Edelgard felt allowed to be herself instead of playing to the whims of Empress.</p><p>The timing could not be better. Today was a very critical day; Edelgard was having her first social visit with Claude. Much rode on this outing going well. If it did not and the pair realized they were a disastrous match, then Edelgard would be back in the peril of needing to find a husband against the ticking clock of Rhea’s expectations. Edelgard found she was more nervous to <em>talk</em> to Claude than she had been to meet him for the first time. She found his face plenty handsome, but she wondered if uncovering his mind would fill her with the same unnerving energy that dancing with him had.</p><p>Even if Claude was dangerously good looking, Edelgard refused to compromise on personality for something so shallow. Looks faded, and bad chemistry would still be bad chemistry in thirty odd years. No, she had to get a good measure on his conversation skills and the quality of his intellect or else she might risk a lifetime of quiet dinners and uninspiring debates. She determined to just keep her eyes on the foliage and off of him in an effort to stay impartial in her judgments.</p><p>Claude was waiting in the park when Edelgard arrived. He looked dashing in a black and gold brocade. His suit was cut in a decidedly foreign style, but the woven gold florets were a classic pattern from the Alliance. “Shall we promenade through the park for everyone to see, your highness?” asked Claude as gestured to the long stretch of greenery ahead of them. Families and couples were walking at leisurely paces, being seen and watching others.</p><p>“It would be my pleasure, your highness,” said Edelgard. Behind them Ladislava walked in step with Claude’s own minder, Nader. There was an illusion of privacy afforded by the distance of their chaperons but every movement was very much being scrutinized.</p><p>“Might we dispense with the formalities when it is just the two of us?” asked Claude as he clasped his hands behind his back.</p><p>Edelgard kept her own hands occupied with her parasol. She burned easily and the little umbrella was as much an accessory as it was a necessity. “That depends, your highness,” said Edelgard with careful consideration. “If anyone is close enough to overhear us, I daresay we should not appear too familiar.”</p><p>Claude chuckled in a sardonic sort of way. “Fair point. We would not want Lady Whispersmuch to speculate about anything.” From his manner it did not seem he was particularly worried about the possibility of appearing in her pages.</p><p>Edelgard pursed her lips in pleasure at the knowledge he already knew about the scandal sheet. “Do you read her paper?”</p><p>“Every issue that I can get my hands on,” said Claude as his stare roved around the park taking in the sights. “She has taught me much about the Fodlan court and its esteemed members. I am in her debt for preparing me for what I was walking into this season having not grown up here.”</p><p>“And what are your impressions so far? Is Lady Whispersmuch to be trusted, or does she horribly stretch the truth?” asked Edelgard. For her part, she thought the gossip column was horrifically unfair and that was half the joy of reading it.</p><p>“I think there is a glimmer of truths here and there masked with humor,” said Claude as his eyes glanced over at Edelgard. There was mischief within them as he cocked one of his eyebrows. “I think she gets a rise out of people blustering about what has been said about them. I imagine she, or perhaps he, is close enough to their subject matter to see these reactions.”</p><p>“Ah, a he, that’s an interesting conjecture,” said Edelgard as the pair began to pass a large lake filled with white swans. “Many people speculate about what sort of person, or persons, would dare write such a thing. I am curious what you believe.” It was promising that he was more entertained than offended by the idea of a woman writing up a scandal sheet.</p><p>“I know enough to recognize when I do not know enough to make strong assertions,” said the prince with care. “I believe they are a liberal, and that is about all I am sure of. ”</p><p>It was not the answer she had been expecting. She had never heard anyone make hypotheses on Lady Whispersmuch’s political leanings; most men did not ascribe opinions on such matters to women. Edelgard made the mistake of stealing a look at Claude to see if he was being serious, and found her eyes catching on his braid and the pleasing shape of his jaw. She forced her stare away from him and focused intently on the path they were following. “What makes you guess that?”</p><p>“Well, she is clearly not in favor of current policies, and appears to have low regard for the Empress. She certainly sympathizes with you princess,” said Claude, his gaze now studying Edelgard with an added ounce of scrutiny. She wished her bonnet blocked more of her peripheral vision for it was maddening to feel his concentration upon her.</p><p>“Me? I don’t know if that’s true—”</p><p>“Oh but it is,” insisted Claude. “She <em>loves</em> you.”</p><p>“Love,” said Edelgard with incredulity as a fierce blush rose in her cheeks. She did not trust herself to look away from the path ahead to see if he was teasing her or not. “I daresay she does not. She mocked my last dress as making me look like an overcooked shrimp.” Edelgard was already bracing herself for how the gossip columnist would describe her gown for the upcoming Varley ball. No, love was the last word Edelgard would use to describe the anonymous writer’s feelings towards her. Perhaps approval or admiration, but not love.</p><p>Claude snorted. “I assure you that you did not evoke a prawn, but a pawn. As Whispersmuch is fond of pointing out, you are at the Empress’ mercy.”</p><p>Edelgard kept her face as neutral as possible, “Yes, well, anyone with eyes can appreciate that.”</p><p>“Yes but very few are willing to bring it up,” said Claude as he paused and motioned for Edelgard to join him in looking out at the pond. The wind was gentle and the surface of the water was placid. A few ducks were skating past, oblivious to the juicy conversation happening just at the waters edge. “I believe that the gossip finds you to be her favored pick for heir. Which having read your thesis I must say—”</p><p>“You’ve read my thesis?” asked Edelgard, only realizing a hair too late that she had interrupted him. She stared at him now outright in disbelief.</p><p>Claude nodded eagerly, “I have, I had to go to Dr. von Essar himself to read over the only copy. I am sorry you were not awarded a degree for it, I thought it was a well developed argument.”</p><p>Edelgard turned her gaze out toward the pond wondering if she ought to just jump in and end this date on her own terms. She was not embarrassed at all by the topic of her university research, in fact she was quite passionate about it, but she was uneasy knowing that Claude had read it. Therefore he also had to know she had been asked to leave the school for it. She had been a month from graduation when she was given the boot for what a few professors facetiously described as a failed coup. For her efforts she was held up as an example for why it was dangerous to admit women into the university. They might just start thinking for themselves if permitted the opportunity.</p><p>Dr. Hanneman von Essar had been her faculty sponsor only because no one else in the Department of Philosophy would bother with mentoring a young lady. Hanneman was sympathetic to the plights of ‘radical’ women seeking formal education, having had a sister who was denied such opportunities despite a similar level of genius to her brother. Edelgard had been part of a pedagogical experiment in which a small cohort of upper class girls were admitted to the university. Lady Ingrid Galatea studied classic literature, Lady Marianne von Edmund achieved a degree in theology, and Edelgard pursued ethics. Her ill fated thesis had argued for the merits of freedom of speech in Fodlan for all persons, not just formally educated men. She had been failed by the committee without even getting to defend her ideas.</p><p>Edelgard let out a sigh as she wondered how best to save face. “I know that my views are considered impolite by society at large, but—”</p><p>“I agree with you,” said Claude without hesitating. “I thought what you had to say was brilliant.”</p><p>Now she feared he was just plying her with empty flattery. Or worse he was trying to catch her with a compromising opinion. Yet Edelgard would not bend; it was time to lay out who she was if this man was truly to be her husband. Edelgard dropped her voice to a whisper so that no one might overhear, “There is only one handwritten copy of my thesis because no one would ever print such a thing. I do not know how it is in Almyra, but here in Fodlan anything that is printed and distributed must be approved by the Empress’ Minister of Decency, a man by the name of Lord Seteth. It means that only things that promote the status quo ever see the light of day.”</p><p>“Ah, but Lady Whispersmuch has found a way around that,” said Claude.</p><p>“Indeed, and that means what she is doing is illegal,” said Edelgard. It was very brave and very stupid. Edelgard looked at Claude and found herself frowning, “Though I daresay I dream of a Fodlan where a person is measured by their words and actions, not just the circumstances of their birth. While the gossip column may be a tad trifling, it is shining a light on the behavior of our court in a way that has never been done before. She is holding people accountable for themselves, and I applaud it.”</p><p>Claude nodded with the slightest hint of approval in his features. Edelgard dared to think that had gone well, at least compared to how she might have envisioned explaining her flirtations with formal education. Most people thought she had wasted her time, although Edelgard had learned a great deal even if she did not have a piece of paper that declared so.</p><p>Claude offered Edelgard his arm to hold as they continued to stroll. She was not sure if she was more surprised by the muscles she could feel clear beneath his jacket or the way her mind betrayed her by wondering what they might feel like holding her. Claude glanced at her with a true smile that spoke of the potential of common ground, “I think you and I may share similar dreams.”</p><p>It was a promising sentiment. Edelgard knew her ideas needed refining, but she truly wanted to change Fodlan for the better. However change required power to support it, and right now she had barely any at all. Therefore she acted in an abundance of caution.</p><p>“I will say one thing I am uncertain of still is why exactly you are the Empress’ ward,” said Claude as they walked. “I was hoping you might tell me of your family. That is a topic I fear I have not gotten clear answers on and I do not dare to trust the gossip column on such matters.”</p><p>Edelgard wondered if this was a test. It was a tremendous scandal, and she would not blame him for running the other way from this arrangement for it. “My family is deceased, and I am the last remaining von Hresvelg that is a direct descendant of Wilhelm the First,” said Edelgard. Once she might have stated such a fact with pride, but now it was but a bitter footnote. “Our ruin has been attributed to divine punishment for my father’s deviancy.”</p><p>She loved her father, but he was incredibly flawed; she could not love the Goddess said to have rained hellfire down upon her family for his transgressions. “My mother was my father’s second wife. He had two children by his first before she passed,” said Edelgard. “There were rumors of course that he might have an illegitimate child or two, but when I was eight a truly massive scandal erupted. A group of nobles exposed my father for keeping multiple mistresses that he had illegally married and hidden away using money that was supposed to be paid towards the Church.” She stared at the ground and swallowed back the complicated feelings she held towards her father and the nobles who had exposed his corruption for their personal gain.</p><p>“My mother left my father when it came out just how many children he had by various women,” said Edelgard. She understood the decision, and her mother had attempted to take her too, but in the end that had not worked out. Ironically, leaving had been Patricia’s doom and if she had stayed she would have never been the horrible carriage accident on the cliffs near Duscur that had claimed her life. “In all there were eleven of us children. We were moved into the Adrestian Imperial Palace in Enbarr, but not long after one of my sisters fell ill. The malady spread rapidly through the close corridors. It has been speculated that the disease was purposefully smuggled in on a doll that had been gifted to her.” Edelgard looked at her gloves and wondered what Claude would think of the scars hidden beneath all her various clothes. That was a conversation for a later date. “It was extremely deadly, and I was the sole survivor. That is how I became first in line for the throne.” It was a horrible legacy of fever dreams and watching her siblings succumb one by one to the mind stealing and body breaking illness.</p><p>Claude patted a hand upon hers where she was holding his arm. It was perhaps the most physical comfort he could offer her without being improper. The gesture was small and yet it stirred up a forbidden pain in Edelgard’s throat. No one had been able to openly grieve her family given the circumstances. Now it was as if they’d never lived at all; no one spoke of what had happened and things were thoroughly swept beneath the rug.</p><p>They walked in silence for some time. Edelgard drew a strange solace from both the conversation that they’d had and how well she felt even when they were not speaking. Claude had an air about him that elicited a sense of ease, although there was an underlying edge and agenda to his curiosity. She knew he was scrutinizing her as deeply as she was investigating him. She could only hope he was not scared off by the truth of her, nor her unwillingness to apologize for it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Much of my “research” is from podcasts that I listen to while at work (very rigorous and well planned stuff happening here…😂), and if anyone is interested in what I’m drawing inspiration from I will drop the relevant episode titles in the author’s notes as they come up. Here's what's been influential so far:<br/><b>The History Chicks</b>: Wonder Woman Part 1 &amp; 2; Catherine the Great Part 1 &amp; 2, Jane Austin<br/><b>Radiolab</b>: What Up Holmes<br/><b>Noble Blood</b>: In the Shadow of the Great<br/><b>Stuff you missed in History Class</b>: Queen Victoria: The Lady Hastings Scandal; Duchess of Decadence: Georgiana<br/><b>Bridgerton: The Official Podcast</b> there's only a few episodes of this but it's interesting so far and presents both historical context as well as stories about the production/filming</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Most Exclusive Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dear Reader,</p><p>In its next session the House of Lords plans to debate a very decisive issue: the matter of voting. Some of our noble brethren believe that instead of restricting a say in governance of this fine land to its titled lords, perhaps we might open it to all noblemen who have reached the age of twenty. It is surely no coincidence that this is a popular position among youthful lords who might like to see more faces like their own in the hallowed halls of Parliament and not just the crusty jowls of ancient barons who refuse to pass their titles on until they’re done breathing.</p><p>Championing this effort is a certain Rose of Leicester who believes it is every nobleman’s solemn duty to lead and make decisions. However, some even feel this measure does not go far enough! There is a Fox of Faerghus who believes any man who owns land in Fodlan, no matter how small his acreage, deserves a say. Then there is a curious Carnation of Adrestia that dares argue that any man who can read is fit to cast a vote. They each fancy themselves revolutionaries.</p><p>I ask why not take the whole thing one step further? If the ability to read is our bar for voting, why must we also require a flopping phallus between ones thighs? We trust our Empress to have the final say in all matters of law and order, so why not allow women a voice in other levels of governance? If you’ll pay a woman to sing for your entertainment, you could at least allow her voice to have a say in the direction of her own future.</p><p>-Lady Whispersmuch</p><p>§</p><p>Ferdinand was an especially noisy reader. Hubert lowered his own paper to stare at the handsome and fashionable Prime Minister of Adrestia’s son harrumphing with increasing fervor at the pages of Lady Whispersmuch. Hubert did take the slightest satisfaction at Ferdinand’s visible discomfort at the latest gossip report.</p><p>They were sitting together at a gentleman’s club that they often met at for afternoon tea. This club prided itself on its exclusive membership and lengthy existence. During the day it was a decent place to find a cup of coffee and a beguiling conversation, but at night things could get rambunctious. Hubert did not partake in the gambling that dominated the evenings, but he was not above watching the debauchery from his favorite spot along the rows of dusty books he rarely saw anyone reading. Right now all was calm save for Ferdinand turning as crimson as their region’s heraldry.</p><p>“Is something the matter Ferdinand?” asked Hubert, though anyone in the salon could sense something was deeply amiss in von Aegir’s life.</p><p>“This was a private conversation,” said Ferdinand as he turned the Whispersmuch report around and held it towards Hubert’s face. “I do not understand how she learned of it.”</p><p>Hubert folded his own paper, a state sanctioned publication that was as exciting as watching water boil, and took the Whispersmuch report. Hubert skimmed over what had Ferdinand so riled. It was on the matter of voting. “You did have this conversation in this very salon though, where plenty of your peers could overhear,” said Hubert, not feeling much sympathy for Ferdinand’s current plight.</p><p>Ferdinand looked around the club with a perplexed expression. “Yes, but there are no ladies allowed in here to listen in.”</p><p>Hubert’s eyes narrowed upon the aspiring politician. “Women are often here, just last night—”</p><p>“Women yes, but not <em>ladies</em>,” said Ferdinand emphasizing a distinction that made Hubert’s eyebrow cock in judgment. Dorothea was one such woman that frequented this club and often found herself on the receiving end of Ferdinand’s attentions. Yet she was not a proper lady, not in the eyes of lords.</p><p>“Well, perhaps you ought to be more careful as to where you have these so called private conversations,” said Hubert as he continued to scan over the gossip rag. “Whispersmuch does not even name you, Ferdinand, I do not understand why you are so worked up.” Sometimes the gossip writer was vague, perhaps in an effort to get more people talking and speculating as to the parties involved.</p><p>“She called me a carnation,” said Ferdinand with indignation rising in his voice. “The least she might have done was make me into an eagle or something noble.”</p><p>Hubert tried not to let his eyes roll out of his head. “You are fortunate she did not call you an over eager cocker spaniel.”</p><p>“Do you think she’s someones wife? How else could she learn of this?” asked Ferdinand. The distress was etching premature wrinkle lines in his otherwise perfect face.</p><p>“Maybe she is someone you have overlooked or underestimated,” suggested Hubert as he passed back the scandal sheet. “Perhaps Lorenz ran his mouth to anyone who would listen after your little spat. Or Sylvain thought it appropriate pillow talk. Who knows?”</p><p>“It was not a spat, it was a honest debate about a difficult topic. But also, the rule is that what’s said and done in the club stays in the clubhouse,” said Ferdinand. He stiffened up and gave Hubert a measured frown, “And now my father will be on my case about my political leanings again.” It was a sad bellwether of Fodlan to know that suggesting that all adults be taught to read was considered a fringe opinion. The conservative consensus was that the people who needed to be able to read already knew how, and therefore teaching anyone else was bound to stir up trouble and cost a great deal.</p><p>Ferdinand billowed his cheeks out and looked perturbed. He adjusted his teacup on its saucer as he stared at Hubert, “I really thought you, of all people, would be more adamant about discovering this nuisance’s identity.”</p><p>Hubert smirked and shrugged. “I think she provides useful observations of the court,” said Hubert.</p><p>“She once called you a gargoyle,” snapped Ferdinand, no longer able to contain himself. “Surely you have feelings to be hurt.”</p><p>Hubert cast his stare down at his teacup and hummed. “Comments about my appearance no longer sting like they once did, my father took it upon himself to thicken my skin.”</p><p>“Fine, but just because Whispersmuch apparently does not affect you, she could still go after your precious princess,” said Ferdinand.</p><p>Hubert’s eyes flickered up to his companion with warning. “I shall have to hope she has enough sense of self preservation not to.”</p><p>Ironically it was one of Hubert’s least favorite people who interrupted Ferdinand before the man could continue complaining. Lorenz Hellman Gloucester was tall and lean and looked like he’d just caught a whiff of rot as he looked at the paper in Ferdinand’s fingers. “Gentlemen, I have the privilege of introducing you to his highness, Prince Claude von Riegan.”</p><p>Hubert was midway through getting up to bow when Claude bucked convention and took a seat at the table. Hubert and Ferdinand locked eyes as they both sank back into their seats in surprise.</p><p>“So this is a gentleman’s club of Fodlan,” said Claude as he clapped his hands together and looked around. He appeared much like a child at the museum seeing the bones of exotic beasts for the first time. Hubert wondered what the prince’s reaction would be to the atmosphere of this place after dark.</p><p>“Yes, it is a place where like minded individuals can come together, enjoy simulating conversations, entertainment, and refreshment,” said Ferdinand with pride. The von Aegirs could boast being part of the original charter that formed the exclusive club many decades ago.</p><p>Claude’s face split into an easy going grin, “We have such clubs in Almyra. I am well acquainted with them, I just have yet to visit one in Fodlan.”</p><p>“Oh, right, of course,” said Ferdinand as his blush clashed with his hair. “Well this is by far the best one in Fodlan, and I assure you there is no better club to pledge ones membership to if you are interested in joining our illustrious ranks.”</p><p>“Speaking of which, there is a matter of utmost importance to discuss,” said Lorenz as he plucked up the Lady Whispersmuch report. “Someone has violated our sacred fraternal bond of trust. This is unacceptable! We must find and repair this dreadful leak and bring those involved to justice.”</p><p>“I agree,” said Ferdinand. He paused and gave a passing glance to Hubert with his eyebrows raised before turning back to Lorenz with a self-satisfied smile, “I think it was Sylvain who ran his mouth.”</p><p>“Oh excellent suggestion, that sounds exactly like something Gautier would do,” said Lorenz with an affirmative nod.</p><p>Hubert sighed at the worst detectives he knew and decided instead to study Claude. “Would you care to join me for a game of chess?”</p><p>Claude smiled at the offer and Hubert was annoyed with himself for understanding what had Edelgard in such a twist about the man. So Claude was better looking than most, what of it? Hubert wanted to know if he was exceptional in character or not.</p><p>“You don’t care to solve the mystery of the anonymous gossip?” asked Claude as he and Hubert walked to where the game boards were set up near the windows. It was quiet here and calm. Hubert much preferred to play in the park. That separated the good players from those too easily distracted by the smallest hint of chaos. Here it was like being dropped in a vacuum; it was suffocating.</p><p>“I am intrigued,” said Hubert as he began to set up the pieces. “But I prefer to work alone.” No mystery was worth solving if it meant spending a minute more with Lorenz and Ferdinand.</p><p>“You spend a great deal of time alone, do you not?” asked Claude as he idly studied the white queen piece.</p><p>“I beg your pardon?” asked Hubert as he finished arranging his black pieces.</p><p>Claude set his queen down next to the king and brought his eyes up to study Hubert. “I could not help but notice that you kept to the periphery during the Empress’ ball. I do not believe I saw you speak with anyone.”</p><p>It rankled Hubert to know he’d been watched. The benefit though of a half paralyzed face was that it masked away his emotions. “I do not care for balls,” said Hubert as he waited for Claude to make the first move.</p><p>“That’s not what I’ve heard,” said Claude as he shifted a pawn. He paused just long enough for the words to evoke something unseemly. “I’ve been told you throw very raucous parties.”</p><p>“I host small private gatherings on occasion,” said Hubert as he made his first move. This was not a game he intended to win. This was just a first pass at sensing out Claude’s strategy. “They are a far cry from the big productions like the Empress is fond of throwing.”</p><p>Claude moved again with what appeared to be little thought. “I heard you arrived to the ball with Princess Edelgard, and did not linger long after she retired. I am told you two have a very close relationship.”</p><p>“I am her,” Hubert found his words failing him in the face of Edelgard’s most promising suitor. Closest companion came off as too intimate, but childhood friend seemed inadequate. Her willing back up plan was too raw and honest.</p><p>“Vassal,” supplied Claude. Hubert made his move in silence and watched as Claude took a pawn. “It is curious though, for I understand that your own father was part of the group that implicated the late Ionius in his scandal. I would assume your families have a complicated history.”</p><p>“I am not my father,” said Hubert with a tiny hint of vitriol as he made another move. “I simply look out for Lady Edelgard and her interests as her friend. With her own father and brothers dead she does not have many advocates at court.” The bitter irony was that her father and brothers would still be here if not for the late former Marquis von Vestra. “I make sure to remove anyone that means her ill.”</p><p>“That is very noble of you,” said Claude with the sense that something small was amiss in his mind over the situation.</p><p>“I assure you it is just the duty of a Vestra to a Hresvelg. Our families have a long history of loyalty to each other, and the actions of my father were an anomaly not the norm,” said Hubert. This felt more like an interrogation than a conversation.</p><p>They moved their pieces in silence for a couple more rounds. Eventually though they became deadlocked. Hubert stared at the arrangement of the pieces and wondered if Claude was even trying to play properly. Perhaps he was also playing to learn through losing. It was not often that Hubert met anyone from the court that he considered a clever competitor; Claude was good enough to know how to draw things out without making it obvious he was throwing the game.</p><p>Lorenz and Ferdinand came over, their farce of a Whispersmuch investigation planned, and stared at the board in confusion as well. Lorenz looked aghast, “Your highness, I thought you claimed to be good at chess.”</p><p>Claude lazily knocked his king over to forfeit but looked nonplussed, “I am.” His stare trained on Hubert, who was very unaccustomed to being so thoroughly seen. He did not care for this one bit.</p><p>§</p><p>The Fodlan Literature Society met every other week in a private room at one of Garreg Mach’s most fashionable tea houses. Membership to what purported to be a book club was by invitation only. Today the group was voting on what debutantes to allow into their ranks.</p><p>“This is garbage,” said Hilda, the book club’s vice president, as she slapped a well read copy of the latest Whispersmuch report on the tea table. “She called me a trollop, can you believe it?”</p><p>It was not that Hilda dressed immodestly, but she did like to push the envelope of common decency by wearing unique fashions that turned heads. Today she donned a pink and white striped dress that evoked an exciting new hot air balloon with the way the skirt billowed down towards her knees. There it stopped inexplicably short of the floor and revealed a daring pair of bloomers. She was also wearing far too many gems and ribbons in her pink hair, and perhaps Whispersmuch had a point in calling her excessively bedazzled.</p><p>“We should not be engaging with such material,” said Ingrid, their treasurer, as she adjusted her round spectacles. “It is impolite.” Ingrid was Hilda’s polar opposite in dress and demeanor. Her clothes were all a muted blue and gray much like the landscape of her homeland, and her conservative collar went all the way up to her chin. Her hair was fixed in a simple plait without so much as a bow to decorate it. Edelgard suspected Ingrid was the only one of them who consistently bothered to read the books they were allegedly discussing.</p><p>Marianne, the book club’s secretary, sipped her tea in silence and offered no comment. She looked as fragile as her tea cup from too little sleep and too many worries etching deep lines beneath her brown eyes. Her pale blue hair was done up in braids and she wore a dress that suggested very much that she was going straight to a social call with yet another suitor at her father’s behest immediately after tea. Edelgard had heard that Marianne received no less than three offers of marriage a week. It sounded exhausting.</p><p>Hilda took her seat and folded her arms with disdain as she stared at the paper as if hoping it might catch on fire from her sheer will alone. Edelgard took the scandal sheet up and tried not to take satisfaction from the fact that Byleth had been called a milk maid in this issue. “Whispersmuch does appear to support the cause of women's suffrage,” said Edelgard. “Perhaps she is more ally than adversary.” Claude’s suggestion about the gossip loving Edelgard was still stinging in the back of her mind.</p><p>“She should not get a free pass for assassinating my character just because she used the voting movement to make a remark about phalluses,” said Hilda as she began to plate herself some scones with clotted cream.</p><p>“The plural is phalli, Hilda,” said Ingrid with discomfort. She picked up the book of the month they were supposed to be discussing as if trying to silently will everyone onto topic.</p><p>“Oh wonderful, and what is a group of phalli called? Marianne, did they cover this in your biology classes?” asked Hilda before taking a heaping bite of her scone.</p><p>“I believe a pack of them is called a Parliament,” said Edelgard in a dry way as she folded away the gossip sheet. Ingrid shut her eyes while Marianne covered her mouth to hide away her small smile. Edelgard decided would spare Ingrid any more embarrassment and call the meeting to order. “Onto today’s matter, we need to decide who to extend invitations to for trial membership to the Society. I would like to invite Lysithea von Ordelia. I have heard she is considered a bit of a prodigy in academics. Does the club agree?” Tea cups were raised in solidarity with the choice, Lysithea would receive a formal invite.</p><p>Ingrid cleared her throat, “I would like to invite Annette Dominic, the niece of Baron Dominic. I have been told she is interested in attending University, and I think we could be very good friends for her to have should she get in.” Tea cups lifted, Annette would receive an invite.</p><p>“I nominate Princess Petra,” said Hilda, her voice gushing with approval. “She’s an important political ally. Also, I heard she bought herself a bicycle and plans to ride it down main street once she’s mastered it.” An invite was prepared for Petra without debate.</p><p>“Is there anyone else?” asked Marianne as she wrote up the meeting notes.</p><p>“How about Bernadetta von Varley?” said Edelgard. She felt obligated to steal the girl away from her oppressive home at any opportunity.</p><p>Hilda pursed her lips with skepticism and narrowed her gaze, “The one who fainted?”</p><p>“She has a keen interest in plants,” said Edelgard. It was not as impressive as aspirations to go to University, genius, or being bicycle riding royalty, but Bernadetta was not like a prized orchid cultivated in optimum conditions. She had been grown away from light and denied water.</p><p>“Is her father not Mortimer von Varley?” asked Hilda as if scandalized by the suggestion. “Doesn’t he consistently argue against things like allowing women into libraries without a male chaperone?”</p><p>“Yes, that would be him,” said Edelgard, who was no fan of the count. “However, I think she is in need of friends, especially considering who her father is and how he treats her. We have a duty to bring her under our wings.”</p><p>“It is a terrible risk,” said Marianne as she fiddled with a small pendant and bit at her lip. “If she should say something that may make him suspicious that we are not actually discussing books, we may find ourselves disbanded.” None of them could afford to lose this moment of respite from suitors and overbearing guardians.</p><p>“We could always discuss the books more thoroughly,” said Ingrid clutching hers to her chest with pent up excitement. “To throw them off the scent.”</p><p>“No books, just sedition,” said Hilda, slapping the table with too much fervor as everyone shushed her. The room was private but not sound proof. Hilda stared at Edelgard, still appearing unconvinced, “Fine, if you wish to invite Varley, then I want to invite that new princess.”</p><p>“No,” said Edelgard reflexively. “We don’t know anything about her.” Really, they had little more than gossip to go on. Byleth was a wild card and that made her far more dangerous than meek Bernadetta.</p><p>“Well how else are we supposed to find out more if we do not meet with her?” demanded Hilda. “Besides, just because we invite someone for a trial tea time does not mean we will make them a member.” Edelgard was outvoted on the measure. Byleth would receive an invite.</p><p>As the young women parted ways following a rousing discussion of the book that some of them had clearly only skimmed, Hilda and Edelgard opted to promenade through the central park of the city. “Tell me all about your date with Claude, I wish to know every detail,” said Hilda as she linked arms with Edelgard. People were staring at Hilda’s bloomers and whispering. Hilda smiled wide at them out of spite.</p><p>“It went well,” said Edelgard, wishing to keep her cards close to her chest.</p><p>Hilda made a face of disapproval. “Well? That does not sound romantic,” said Hilda.</p><p>“Does it have to be romantic?” asked Edelgard as she tried not to sound too defensive. “It must be strategic above all else.” She needed security not sentimentality.</p><p>“Yes, but I hope you at least like his company,” said Hilda as she made a rude face back at some gentlemen that were staring at her in a most judgmental way.</p><p>“I do, so far,” said Edelgard. What she still could not be sure of was if Claude was truly honest in his words about her studies, or if he was just placating her until he had her hand. If he’d truly read her thesis then he had to know she had ambitions; what wasn’t clear was if he’d support her in those pursuits.</p><p>Hilda groaned and threw her head back to stare at the sky as if anguished by Edelgard’s typical reserved manner. “Does he stir even an ounce of passion within you?”</p><p><em>Passion</em>. Leave it to Hilda to be frivolous about such matters. Passion… Edelgard thought of Claude’s eyes watching her at the ball, of linking arms with him in the park, and the unfamiliar desire to dance with him at the upcoming Varley ball. None of these thoughts dared pass her lips for fear of coming off as lustful. “He seems a good match intellectually speaking,” said Edelgard. She made to deflect Hilda’s attention away from the topic of Claude. “And what about you, why did you dance with Dimitri so many times?”</p><p>Hilda shrugged with indifference, “Must I have a reason other than it was for fun? We were at a ball, dancing is what you're supposed to do.”</p><p>“I believe your brother might prefer you to have a better reason,” said Edelgard, all too familiar with Holst Goneril and his protective nature towards his baby sister.</p><p>“Dear Holst and I are locked in a battle of avoiding our familial responsibilities,” said Hilda before she forced a smile at a passing couple. “Have you not noticed how Holst is always ill when there is a ball? He cannot court anyone if he never meets anyone. He intends that it is I who should have to marry and run things at the Locket while he goes out drinking and running amok with the likes of scoundrels like Balthus von Albrecht.” Hilda gave Edelgard a knowing smirk, “As for me, I dance with those who I safely know will not pursue me. In doing so I at least look like I’m trying to do my duty.” She winked at Edelgard. “But the joke is on Holst, for I shall be a spinster if I keep this up. He will always be eligible no matter how old he gets. Then he’ll be stuck as the one who must carry on the bloodline and I will be the one who is free of all those expectations.”</p><p>Edelgard tried not to sigh at the explanation. “If only all of us had that option,” said Edelgard.</p><p>“Oh, Edelgard, I did not mean to upset you,” started Hilda, clearly mortified.</p><p>“I am not upset,” said Edelgard as she watched some birds flying free overhead. “I just think you ought to be careful with these crafty plans. I would hate to see you run from all that potential passion you think should be a part of marriage.”</p><p>“Well no one says you must be married to know passion, if you know how to be discreet that is,” said Hilda beneath a too wide smile at a nearby statesman. Edelgard declined to ask if Hilda had known passion for a lady ought to be allowed some secrets, especially when the eagle ears of Whispersmuch might be anywhere listening for the next big scandal.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sources<br/><b>Dressed: The History of Fashion:</b> Bloomerism and Feminism, in Conversation with Stuff Mom Never Told You; Styling the American Suffragist, an interview with Raissa Bretana<br/>____</p><p>Me, trying to tag and outline this while I keep coming up with more ideas: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ let me know what you think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Green with envy is not your color darling.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leave it to the Varleys to find a way to make a ball as disastrous as possible. Count Varley’s desperation to show the gentry that he was not a dreadful, backwards miser that would make for a horrid father-in-law resulted in too much being done without too little forethought. He’d hired opera singers and a quartet, but the acoustics all off where he’d stuck the performers. He’d demanded his servants change the food from standard light appetizers to a rich and decadent feast, but no one wanted to eat something so heavy at a late spring party. The cheese was beginning to sweat nearly as much as the petulant host.</p><p>This was all compounded by the fact that many people had not returned their courtesy cards to indicate if they were coming or not and far more had arrived than anticipated. Everyone wanted a look at the new princess and the place was packed tighter than a Enbarr street car by the time the royal entourage arrived by carriage out to the estate. Lady Whispersmuch, despite her status as the Varleys' chief antagonist and enemy, had slid in with an invitation. She was not so bold as to jot down notes, but she was watching and listening while dreaming up her next vicious periodical.</p><p>§</p><p>Edelgard was not enthused to be announced into the room. Immediately all eyes within a fifty meter radius fell upon her garish dress. Hilda sustained shocked eye contact with Edelgard as if she could not believe Empress Rhea had commissioned such a monstrosity. Edelgard did her best to ignore the hands that rose to mouths to obscure the rampant whispers. Instead Edelgard made her way to Bernadetta, who was trapped by her parents at the very front of the room.</p><p>Countess von Varley was hovering behind her daughter. The Countess was downright unoffensive when contrasted against her odious husband, but that was an especially low bar by which to measure the woman’s nature. She spoke in low tones to her daughter with sharp orders, “Stand up straighter darling, the princess approaches, do not make a mess of things.”</p><p>“I know mother, I know,” said Bernadetta in a shrill whisper as her hands pawed at the stiff lavender fabric of her skirt. Her dress was not bad, per se, but it was paired with the too many accessories — gloves, jewels, and a massive feather in her tightly wound up hair — that made the whole ensemble jarring.</p><p>“Good evening Count von Varley, thank you for inviting me,” said Edelgard before curtsying in the host’s direction. Really, he should have been thanking her for attending.</p><p>“Your highness,” said Varley as he bowed back. He seemed nervous, which Edelgard took a certain satisfaction from. When she married, whoever her groom might be, at minimum Edelgard would control the Adrestian stretch of Fodlan where Varley’s lands sat. He could not afford to be rude to her.</p><p>“Countess, Bernadetta, lovely to see you,” said Edelgard with warmth reserved for Bernadetta alone.</p><p>Countess von Varley gave Bernadetta a swift, light smack in the arm. “Dear, you’re being rude, greet the princess properly,” said the Countess in a hiss.</p><p>“Right,” said Bernadetta under her breath as she forced her eyes up to meet Edelgard’s. “I am so glad you’re here Princess Edelgard,” said Bernadetta. She was the only honest sounding one of the bunch.</p><p>“Might you give me a short tour? I have heard your gardens are to die for,” said Edelgard as she glanced around the crowded room. The heat of so many bodies in so many layers of fabric crammed into such a small space was quickly growing unbearable.</p><p>Bernadetta glanced at her parents for permission and the Count practically shooed his daughter towards the princess. Being seen in Edelgard’s company was a boon for Bernadetta, which Edelgard and the Count were both keenly aware of. Edelgard planned to use that to the girl’s advantage to give Bernadetta a reprieve from her parents.</p><p>The Varleys did in fact have an enviable, lush garden. The sun had yet to set and so the walk was still well lit enough to see the various flowers and imported greenery. “This is my favorite part of the estate,” said Bernadetta in a wistful tone as she walked Edelgard through the rows. “My uncle adored it too. He even collected seeds from his trips around the world and tried to see how they might grow in this climate. He was running experiments all along the property before his disappearance.”</p><p>“Your uncle was an explorer was he not?” asked Edelgard. She knew little of Count von Varley’s legally deceased brother. There were rumors that he had not died of a tropical fever at all, but had stolen a small rowboat during his last expedition to live in the tropical forests instead of coming back to Fodlan and high society. He’d always been a bit of an eccentric, much to the embarrassment of his loathsome younger brother, and people were ready to believe he’d run away.</p><p>“He was a naturalist,” said Bernadetta as she paused to stroke a particular leaf. It was a dark green with veins of purple running through it. “He went all the way to Dagda when he was our age, collecting specimens and seeds for the University. I cannot imagine doing something so exciting and brave.” Bernadetta straightened up and wiped a small tear from her eyes. “I like to think he is actually happily living on an island somewhere, but I do not think him the type to willingly abandon his responsibilities.”</p><p>Edelgard noted the sinking sun and the shadows creeping along the walk. It would be improper to stay out here much longer. “Let us return to our own responsibilities,” said Edelgard in a gentle tone as she linked arms with Bernadetta. “I am sorry for your loss. You sound as if you miss him very much.”</p><p>“I do, I dream of him returning and reclaiming his title,” said Bernadetta in a quiet voice. “He was always quite kind to me, and encouraging.” Bernadetta’s words dried up as they reentered the ballroom. People were fussing over something and it took Edelgard a few moments to catch what they were all tittering about.</p><p>Princess Byleth had arrived. Edelgard had not been in the same carriage with Rhea’s entourage, and had arrived early with Hubert. She had therefore not gotten to see the princess in her debut dress before leaving the palace. Byleth was radiant in a white and gold dress with a massive navy train. It was evocative of Rhea’s own fashion choices, and it looked absolutely splendid. Mercedes von Martritz, who was talented enough to find a way to place an impossible quantity feathers upon Edelgard’s dress, had really outdone herself on Byleth’s gown.</p><p>Byleth looked like Rhea’s little copy complete with a tiara that had some unbelievably massive gemstones on it. The diadem had likely been pulled specially from a vault of heirlooms and was easily worth more than an entire barony. Lady Whispersmuch may have described Edelgard as a great jewel, but tonight it was clear that Byleth was an exquisite diamond. Edelgard found herself unconsciously pulling at little feathers to get them off her dress in an attempt to look less ridiculous in comparison.</p><p>Edelgard maintained her composure even as her embarrassment grew at the contrast between the two princess and how they were displayed. She had thought that being paraded around for marriage was the worst thing she would have to endure, but she had been wrong. This was worse. She was now being made a mockery of and pushed to the side and out of the way while Rhea sculpted her chosen successor in the eyes of the court.</p><p>Someone very close behind her cleared his throat. “You appear to be molting, your highness,” said Claude as he gave an amused look at the tiny feathers sprinkled around Edelgard’s feet.</p><p>Edelgard felt a flush in her face at being caught. “Ah, hello, you made it. So lovely to see you,” said Edelgard as she willed her fingers to stop destroying Mercedes’ hard work.</p><p>“Would you care for a dance?” asked Claude as he tipped his head in the direction of the microscopic dance floor. Everyone was too distracted by Byleth to get out on the empty area reserved for waltzes. The two hired opera singers looked a touch put off to be performing for an audience of one. Ferdinand von Aegir was a polite and adoring fan while the other guests paid the singers no mind.</p><p>“You wish to dance, just the two of us? Surely we should wait for more people,” said Edelgard. She had never opened a ball before. Typically that was the host’s duty but Count and Countess von Varley did not seem like dancing types. Everyone else was far too distracted by Byleth to consider dancing.</p><p>“Someone has to make the first move and get out there,” said Claude. His voice was light and teasing and Edelgard wanted to believe that this was just for fun and not for continuing their arranged courtship. Claude dusted a few little feathers from the shoulder of her dress, “Besides we may be able to knock some more of this down off of you if we do a few spins here and there.”</p><p>“They’re everywhere,” said Edelgard in concession as she accepted his hand. She followed him away from princess Byleth’s debut and onto the dance floor where no one was watching them. It was freeing in that sense to just be the two of them out here; it was perhaps the most private place they could go while still being on full display for anyone that might be interested in watching.</p><p>The musicians looked relieved to finally have someone stepping in sync with their notes. “See, without all the crowds, you and I can actually speak,” said Claude. It was true, for once no one was around them to eavesdrop or interject.</p><p>“And what would you like to speak about?” asked Edelgard. This was the only way they could hope to get to know each other. Edelgard knew Rhea would be pushing for an engagement decision soon.</p><p>“Well, everyone is talking about Princess Byleth,” said Claude. “What do you think her angle is? I have heard she is a von Nabatean.”</p><p>“It’s true,” said Edelgard. She felt Claude’s posture stiffen slightly at the news. “I wonder if the Empress means to name her heir.”</p><p>“Interesting,” said Claude, with a touch of darkness to his words. “So you would become second in line, Dimitri would be third, and I suppose I would be fourth since my uncle passed,” said Claude as his eyes lit up with calculation.</p><p>“If she were to marry Prince Dimitri, that would be an interesting conundrum for the succession. We would be a fairly evenly matched set of monarchs,” said Edelgard as calmly as she could. It was going to be an absolute mess. This was the type of climate that produced civil wars in the worst of times.</p><p>“Is your step brother interested in her?” asked Claude as his eyes sought out Dimitri’s distinctive blond crown. The prince was actually chatting with Byleth now.</p><p>“Well, don’t tell anyone, but I swear I saw her flirting with him at the training grounds in the palace,” said Edelgard as she recalled Byleth knocking over a full rack of rapiers. “She had a little <em>accident</em>, shall we say, right in front of him. She made a big mess for him to help clean up.”</p><p>Claude chuckled in understanding. “My mother warned me there’s no such thing as a coincidence when marriageable young people are involved.”</p><p>“Your mother is wise,” said Edelgard with a smile. Yet her mood was greatly tempered by the idea of Dimitri and Byleth assuming the throne together.</p><p>Edelgard had a good idea what kind of leader Dimitri would make. He was good and just in theory, but very disinterested in the minutia of ruling. Edelgard feared he would rely too heavily on others to make the right choices. He’d be like his father and simply appoint all his Faerghus friends into power. It was not that Edelgard thought lowly of Dimitri’s social circle, but lords in the north had a reputation for upholding tradition. They did not like risks or change.</p><p>She tried to picture instead what she and Claude might achieve if put in charge of things. “Let us say that we are crowned, hypothetically,” said Edelgard as she turned her complete focus onto Claude. “If you could only accomplish one single thing while in power, what would you do?”</p><p>Claude looked thoughtful as he chewed on his lip and then locked eyes with her, “Trains. I would build a railway to connect all of Fodlan.”</p><p>“Trains?” asked Edelgard in confusion. “Those mechanical beasts?” The state sanctioned papers treated them like a true terror of an innovation.</p><p>Claude laughed. “Mechanical beasts is a fitting description. We have them in Almyra and they’ve revolutionized how we get around. I want that for Fodlan, so that anyone can get anywhere.”</p><p>She had never heard someone sound so passionate about a machine of all things. “We’ve considered them, but they’re noisy, expensive, and a blight on the landscape. At least that’s the opinion of the House of Lords,” said Edelgard. She gave a fleeting look in the direction of Count von Varley who was talking with Duke von Aegir. Both of them were stuffy politicians afraid of change. Perhaps for that reason alone she ought give trains another chance. “Why do you like them so much?”</p><p>“They are a great equalizer. Think about it, how do you get from Enbarr to Garreg Mach?” asked Claude before giving her a spin to shake free more feathers.</p><p>“I have a carriage,” said Edelgard as her vision swirled around the room.</p><p>“And footmen, and guards I imagine, all on horseback?” asked Claude as he brought her back to face him.</p><p>“Yes I suppose there are guards for bandits and the like,” said Edelgard. Her entourage was quite large whenever she had to travel anywhere.</p><p>“Now, consider a commoner. How do you think they fair on the road without all that?”</p><p>“I suppose it would take a very long time on foot, and be very dangerous,” said Edelgard as she considered it carefully. “Renting a carriage or even a cart might be costly.”</p><p>“Exactly. Yet if we had a train and a ticket could be purchased by all, then everyone would make the trip in the same amount of time and safety,” said Claude with cheer in his voice. His smile grew a little sly, “I dream of building a railway all the way to Almyra.”</p><p>“You’d have to cleave a mountain in two to accomplish that,” said Edelgard with a small laugh at the absurdity. She might not have been much of an expert on infrastructure, but she did know her geography. A great big range of mountains made it nearly impossible to get between Fodlan and Almyra. Most travel between the countries was done by ship, which was slow and dangerous.</p><p>“Well, I have been talking with a young lord with an interest in dynamite. Sylvain Gautier, have you met him?” asked Claude.</p><p>Sylvain had attempted to be a suitor to Edelgard for all of an hour before giving up last season. He was a terrible flirt with a reputation for loving loose women and gambling away his father’s fortune. Claude continued, “Based on your facial expression, I can see you’re acquainted.”</p><p>Edelgard didn’t realize she’d been grimacing. “Sorry, yes, I am familiar with him.”</p><p>“He’s a character, I don’t blame you for your strained smile,” said Claude with ease. “But he is dealing with his own mountainous border with Sreng. It is one of the most dangerous areas in the entire continent. However, I have sold him on this train idea. He then sold me about ten tons of dynamite. Apparently that is what is produced up there in the cold north, vodka and dynamite. Two things I imagine are dangerous to mix.”</p><p>“So you’re just going to blow up the mountains?” asked Edelgard in a mix of disbelief and honest admiration at the scale of the plan.</p><p>Claude glanced around at the empty dance floor, “Not so loud princess, I imagine it will ruffle feathers when I do it.” He paused to pluck a few feathers away from her sleeves. “The von Riegans own part of those mountains, as much as any man can own something like a mountain anyway, so it’s mine to blow up should I choose.”</p><p>Edelgard watched as discarded feathers blew about the dance floor as they continued to step to the music. “Well trains were not what I was expecting, but you seem very passionate and have some good reasons.” It was truly admirable to want to connect everyone, and Edelgard could see herself investing in these new rails on the same principle once she had control of her fortune.</p><p>“And you, your highness? What one thing would you do if put in charge?” asked Claude as the song began to near its end.</p><p>She would destroy it all and rebuild it from the ground up. No more complicated opaque successions, no more title transferring lords in charge. Equal representation and rights. These were her most radical notions, and these were unpalatable to most nobles. Claude seemed more innovative than average, and that was exciting, but he was still a lord with vested interests in the old system. She went with something a little less extreme. “I would draft a constitution to protect people from being exploited. Our Empress and House of Lords make the laws, but they answer only to the Goddess. I think they should have to answer to the people.”</p><p>Claude’s lip turned up in a hard to read smile. It could have been approval, or curiosity, or a bit of both. She wasn’t quite sure, but this dance was coming to a close. “Thank you for the dance your highness,” said Claude instead of sharing his own thoughts on her ambitions. “I hope we have more opportunities to speak on this later.”</p><p>§</p><p>This was a crowded ball thanks to Lady Whispersmuch hinting that a new princess would be here. It was a bit too crowded in Hubert’s opinion, and he found himself clinging to a wall trying to stay out of the way. He was barely succeeding in avoiding conversations while attempting to monitor the room.</p><p>Up on a little platform, Dorothea was performing with Manuela. Their notes were expertly delivered though the acoustics of the Varley House were far less than the quality of the Mittelfrank opera house. Ferdinand was the only person watching them with rapt attention. Meanwhile, Edelgard and Claude were dancing, though no one else was. They were talking and Hubert itched to know what it was they were discussing.</p><p>Instead Hubert was stuck watching Byleth’s debut. Her mouthful of a name was rolled out to great fanfare and everyone was vying to get close enough to introduce themselves. Young single men were practically tripping over each other as their mothers pushed them towards her. Hubert’s mother was long dead and not there to pester him about marriage, though plenty of mothers of young women were attempting to get him interested in their daughters.</p><p>Hubert had to be careful what corners of the room he ended up in lest he become trapped by some aggressive matron. He had already dodged Countess von Varley, Countess Galatea and Lady Dominic, but the night was still young. Yet despite appearances to the contrary, marriage was something that was often at the forefront of his mind.</p><p>Edelgard was going to marry Claude. It wasn’t official but Hubert could feel it coming. On paper it was a fantastic match for her, and based on her body language out on the dance floor it seemed like the best match she’d entertained to date. Yet Hubert was still put off by his chess match with the prince and his own nagging inability to impartially consider Edelgard’s future husband. Hubert wasn’t going to be able to protect her once she was married unless of course he was the one to marry her, but he had a feeling he’d be the only one pleased by such an arrangement.</p><p>Edelgard had never expressed any romantic interest in him. Technically she was quite reserved and had never really made any romantic overtures to anyone, but there had been many opportunities for her to show interest in him if she held any. She had not. He had made a too heavily veiled advance towards suiting her once in the summer they spent together when she pretended to be too ill to come to Garreg Mach. He knew she was terrified of marrying the wrong person, and he promised himself to her in the event Rhea tried to marry her to someone awful. Edelgard seemed to like the offer but as a friend and not anything more.</p><p>Hubert found himself folding his arms and scowling as he watched Edelgard on the dance floor. She was smiling at something that Claude was saying. “You look grumpy this evening,” came the sickly sweet voice of Hilda. Why Edelgard befriended this particular pink haired nuisance Hubert would never understand.</p><p>“Good evening Lady Goneril,” said Hubert as he tried to look for a path to leave. The room was simply too crowded and he was trapped.</p><p>“What an handsome couple those two make,” said Hilda with exaggerated approval as she followed Hubert’s gaze out to the dance floor. “Would you care to join me for a dance so that we might eavesdrop on them?”</p><p>Absolutely Hubert wished to listen in, but not if it meant dancing with Hilda. “No thank you, I do not eavesdrop on my friends,” said Hubert as he let his stare settle on the much shorter bother before him.</p><p>“Oh,” said Hilda with a pout. “So you eavesdrop on people who are not your friends then?”</p><p>Hubert eavesdropped all the time, not that she needed to know that. “Only when the conversation is interesting, which I assure you is extremely rare in this crowd.”</p><p>“I never knew you had such an acidic bite to you, my lord,” said Hilda with an annoying laugh of appreciation. “Perhaps now I understand why her highness tolerates your moody constitution hanging about like a storm cloud just behind her. I would not wish to be where your lightening hits when you choose to throw it.”</p><p>Hubert felt his face twitching on one side. “It is always such a pleasure to speak with you, Lady Goneril,” said Hubert, as sarcasm dripped into his words unabated. “Is there something you desire from me or may I take my leave of this thrilling conversation?”</p><p>Hilda giggled in the most unbecoming manner. She dropped her voice down to a whispered. “Allow me to cut to the chase. I have noticed that you do not seem interested in marriage. Nor am I. Perhaps we could be disinterested in that together?”</p><p>Hubert did not even bother to try and hide his frown. “I am afraid I do not follow.”</p><p>“You and I could help each other,” said Hilda as she adjusted Hubert’s crimson pocket square in a too familiar way. “If we appear to be courting, perhaps less people would bother us. My father would get off my back, and those mothers might actually leave you alone.”</p><p>“This is a very strange scheme and I suspect it is likely to fail,” said Hubert. No one would buy the rumor he was suddenly interested in courting and had chosen Hilda Goneril. Their personalities simply could not be less compatible. It would be obviously fake unless they really tried to sell it. “No thank you Hilda, you’ll have to find another conspirator for I am fine on my own.”</p><p>Hilda sighed and rolled her eyes, “Very well, I just simply thought perhaps you would want to spy on Edelgard with me, and what better way to do it than to be another young happy couple?”</p><p>Hubert stood up a little straighter and flared his nostrils as he identified a path away from this conversation. “No thank you, I respect her privacy too much.” A lie, a total lie, but he would not give Hilda the satisfaction of knowing that. “Excuse me,” said Hubert as he made for a more desolate space to loiter. He ended up behind the opera stage where it was too loud to hold a conversation. He let himself get obscured by a grotesquely large vase as he watched Dorothea and Manuela performing from the shadows.</p><p>Yet the stars could not sing forever, and eventually they took their break. Dorothea came right up to him, which was a surprise since they did not wish to advertise any casual connection to each other.</p><p>“I need to speak with you, about your patronage and our arrangement,” said Dorothea in a low voice. Her eyes darted towards an empty corridor where the servants were filtering from the kitchens to the reception. It was likely to be the most private place they could go without leaving the party entirely.</p><p>“Of course,” said Hubert, hiding his surprise. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.” It was best if they did not appear like they were going anywhere together.</p><p>She looked a touch nervous as she waited in the unadorned hall that led to the kitchens. Dorothea’s lush chestnut hair was piled high in an updo and her bodice was cut low to catch wandering eyes. “Ferdinand has finally approached me this evening, he means to make me into a proper mistress,” said Dorothea under her breath.</p><p>Ferdinand would be a duke someday, so he certainly had the means to support both a mistress and a wife in a lavish manner. Dorothea might get an offer of marriage from a wealthy commoner, but to be a kept mistress of a duke was as high as she might rise in this society. It was far more security than Hubert was offering.</p><p>“He’s quite taken with you,” said Hubert. Ferdinand attended Dorothea’s performances often and showered her with flowers. He flirted with her at the club after hours. He had romanced her, at least as much as a nobleman would romance a commoner, and now he was ready to take the plunge.</p><p>Yet Hubert imagined Ferdinand might be slightly less taken with Dorothea if he knew the beds she shared while waiting on her big break. “You’re always welcomed back at my home if you need,” said Hubert as he glanced down the hall to make sure no one was about to interrupt. Hubert’s relationships were more or less like country way stations; he was a stopping point for rest and respite, but everyone had another destination in mind. He always knew that eventually Dorothea would move on. He suspected Ignatz would as well someday. “Though I would prefer if you were quiet about our time spent together.”</p><p>“Of course. Besides, Ferdinand would prefer to picture me as pure as the newly fallen snow,” said Dorothea with a small laugh. She reached out and squeezed one of Hubert’s hands. “And you would prefer to picture me as someone else,” said Dorothea as her eyes glanced in the direction of the party where Edelgard and Claude were certainly still in conversation.</p><p>Hubert withdrew his hand from her touch. He let his hands safely settle behind his back and away from any signs of affection. “Ferdinand is a good man if you can tolerate his talking,” said Hubert as he let his eyes wander away from Dorothea in order to reduce the strange and painful feeling in his chest. “If you would consider continuing to give me any interesting tidbits that come your way, you would be compensated and have my appreciation.” He was losing his lover and his most chatty spy. He suspected though she would be much happier with Ferdinand, and so it was easy to let her go despite the building feeling of loss beginning to consume him.</p><p>Dorothea let out a sigh, “Of course. Here’s the latest scoop.” She leaned in and got up on her tip toes in order to dust a kiss upon his cheek, “I have heard that the Marquis von Vestra is hopelessly in love with a certain imperial princess. He is only managing to hide that fact from her, but others have taken note. He should probably consider courting someone else if he wishes to keep the whispers down.” Dorothea receded and straightened the brooch at the base of his neck. “Take care of yourself Hubert,” she said with a hint of honest fondness before she took her leave of him and walked towards her new future.</p><p>Dorothea’s words had felt like a gentle slap. Tender but still with plenty of sting. Perhaps he wasn’t hiding his affections towards Edelgard as well as he thought. Claude had alluded to as much in their chess game. With a heavy heart, and even heavier feet, Hubert sought out a specific pink head in the crowd to reconsider the offer of a fake courtship.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bernadetta's uncle was inspired by Charles Darwin, who describes his botany experiments around his estate in <i>On the Origin of Species</i>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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